


Phoenix Rising

by hondagirll



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hondagirll/pseuds/hondagirll
Summary: If your friendship is meant to survive this, then it will. And if you're lucky it'll flourish into something much stronger than it was before.[post season three. Schneider/Penelope + Alvarez family]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this because I haven't written fanfic in over 5 years and I love this show too much to ruin it with my mediocre writing. But the cancellation has left me deeply upset so here ya go. This will be 4 chapters in total, pretty canon compliant. Takes place right at the end of S3 and then continues. Warning for lots of family feels because I love this familia almost as I love Penelope (which is a LOT).

Schneider spends the first thirty days of his sixth round of sobriety going to AA meetings daily (sometimes twice, on one particularly hard day he goes to three different meetings). Penelope goes with him the first day and the second and the third.

“You don’t have to keep coming,” he tells her on day four as they stand by the cookie table during a ten-minute break. She stops her across the room flirting with Nick (“ _Mmmmm_. That man is fine with a capital F”) to frown at him.

“Yes I do,” she says, stubbornly. “I told you, you aren’t doing this alone. Beside, Elena read online that the first thirty days are the hardest. You need all the support from us you can get.”

She really means it because on day five Lydia and Dr. Berkowitz come with him, day six is Penelope again and day seven is, of all people, Victor.

(“He’s going to a meeting after he drops the kids off from school,” Penelope tells Schneider the night before at dinner. “He says he would like you to join him.”)

It’s uncomfortable at first. This is the first time the two of them have really spent any alone time together since the disaster that was Victor’s _dad_ chelor party. And everything else Schneider knows about the man is filtered through the lenses of his interactions with Penelope, Elena and Alex. He feels tired, small and a little bit ashamed when Victor knocks on his door. But all that gets pushed away thirty minutes later when the meeting starts and Victor opens up to the group, followed by a few other men, followed by Schneider. Suddenly they are just two men flawed and broken in different ways but both determined to do better, to be better men than they were the day before. And that feels kind of alright.

“I’m proud of you, man.” Victor tells Schneider after the meeting has ended. They are walking outside to Victor’s car. “You came back. You rose up and are fighting your disease. You are a much stronger man than I ever gave you credit for.”

Schneider suddenly wants to cry. He feels his emotions so much more clearly these days, he feels like his heart is constantly outside of his chest and hearing praise from Victor, one of the last people who he would have ever expected to be supportive, gets to him. “So are you,” Schneider says softly. He’s surprised by how much he really means it. “You’ve come such a long way as well. I am sorry though,” he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. “For drinking around your kids.”

He's already apologized to Penelope. And Lydia. And Alex. And Elena. And then Penelope again. And again. But he needs to say the words to Victor as well. He needs to tell him he's not that man. That he won't ever be that man ever again.

“I know you are.” The two men share a brief glance and Victor nods at him. “But thanks for saying it aloud.”

The ride back to the apartment is quiet, the silence only broken when Victor pulls up to the curb and Schneider puts his hand on the door handle, ready to jump out. “Hey,” says Victor, stopping him. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m getting married in a few weeks.”

“I might have heard some rumblings.”

“Good.” Victor laughs, a small grin tugging at his lips and Schneider can suddenly see his resemblance to Elena. They both laugh with their eyes. “I already have the best man spot filled but I would like it if you can still come to the wedding.”

“What?” Schneider thinks he heard wrong. He gives Victor a surprised look. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’ll be a small service. Well, small by Cuban standards which means only one hundred and fifty people but there will be lots of food, lots of dancing. No alcohol though. I promise,” assures Victor. “ It'll be fun, might help you take your mind off things. Plus, I know Penelope and Lydia would like you to come. You’re their family after all.”

It takes Schneider more than a few seconds to find his voice. When he does, it’s bit scratchy. “Yeah Victor, thanks. I’d like that. I’ll be there, man.”

Schneider goes to bed that night with his seven-day chip on his nightstand and _you're their family after all_ running on an endless loop in his head. For the first time in fifteen long days he sleeps through the night, only waking when the bright sun streaming through the cracks in his blinds finally reach his eyes.

Today I will continue to be sober, he tells himself, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Nothing will impact my sobriety today.

 

oOo

 

Penelope initially limits his time with Elena and Alex.

(“I know you love them and they love you. But it's not their responsibility to take care of you. They might be teenagers but at the end of the day they are still kids and you are still the adult.”)

Schneider doesn't blame her. He screwed up pretty badly (he still sometimes sees Alex’s scared, worried face in his nightmares late at night. The what if scenarios that play out in his head are even worse- _what if Alex didn't go get help? What if he hurt him? What if another tenant had come into the laundry room and found him?_ ). And she's their mother and he knows that Penelope has had experience with alcoholism, sobriety, therapy and the setting of healthy boundaries between recovering addicts and her kids. So when she says he can only have dinner with them every other day and he can't be alone with either of the kids until she gives them the all clear he completely agrees. No questions asked. It hurts though. The knowledge that he can no longer just pop into their apartment and be a part of their daily lives hurts so much that it actually makes his teeth ache. But he gets it. He completely, totally gets it.

It just really, really sucks.

“She's protecting her kids,” Nick says on day three when Schneider is over at his place having dinner. “Trust takes time to be restored in a relationship, Pat. Rome wasn't built in a day. You need to focus on yourself and your recovery right now.”

“I know. But what if -” Schneider gives in to the small voice of fear that lives inside him. “What if she never trusts me again? Ever? What if we can't go back to what we once were?”

“You can't.” Nick states firmly. “You'll never be able to go back. That's impossible. But Pat,” Nick braces his arms on the table and looks at him intently. “If your friendship is meant to survive this, then it will. And if you're lucky it'll flourish into something much stronger than it was before. You just have to take care of yourself and let her do the same.”

“I know. But -”

Schneider thinks of his father and mother. Of his many nannies and numerous stepmothers, his butler, his chauffeur, his equestrian instructor, his housekeeper, his soufflé man, the guys from Full Sail. All people who claimed to love him at one time or another but when it came down to it really, really didn't. Adding the Alvarez family to that list would be devastating.

“I'm scared,” he admits and he's not sure if he's talking to Nick or to himself. “I'm terrified that I'm too big of burden for her, for them. I'm scared she's going to wake up one day and realize I'm too much.”

“She hasn't yet,” says Nick. “And if she does, you can't control that. You cannot control another person’s actions or reactions, you can only control your own.”

“But look,” he quickly adds when he sees the worried look on Schneider's face. “I don't know much about your friendship but I've seen your interactions with her. She truly cares about you, Pat. And remember what we've talked about before. Yes, you are a burden. I am a burden. We are all burdens. But-”

“I am a burden worth carrying,” finishes Schneider. He exhales, slowly. The tightness in his chest eases a notch. “I am a burden worth carrying.”

 

(The Penelope-imposed exile between Schneider and the kids ends the very next day when Schneider hears a knock on his apartment door and opens it to see Elena and Alex standing there with giant grins on their faces. Lydia and Penelope are behind them, both smiling as well. Schneider blinks his eyes a few times to make sure he isn’t seeing a mirage.

Penelope speaks first. “I was wrong,” she admits, opening her hands in defeat. “They need to see you recovering, you need to see your family. Elena,” she continues with a fond look at her daughter, “brought up some good points during our discussion.”

“I had a slideshow made and everything!” exclaims Elena as she gives Schneider a fierce hug and then looks him up and down quickly, as if inspecting him for damage during their brief time apart. Alex rolls his eyes but his smile is bright as he fist bumps Schneider and then follows his sister inside.

Schneider still hasn’t moved from the doorway. “Is this what heaven feels like?”

“ _¡Claro que sí!_ ” exclaims Lydia dramatically as she squeezes past him. She pats him on the arm and flashes a bright smile. “I’m here after all.”

Schneider is still motionless; his head racing and his hands clammy. “Penelope...”

“I know,” Penelope says, stepping forward to wrap him a tight hug. Her voice is soft. “We got you.”

Schneider’s eyes are wet behind his glasses and his heart is full.)

 

oOo

It takes him another week before he finally finds the courage to contact Avery.

He misses her. He misses her so damn much it sometimes hurts to breathe. He wakes up in the morning and he think about drinking and he thinks about Avery, sometimes in that order, sometimes not. The strong urge to drink starts to dissipate as the days go on (and as he works through his steps and is held accountable by Nick and the other men) but his need to see Avery, to reach out to her, to try and fix the brokenness between them that he created only intensifies.

Schneider compiles about two dozen texts that all say different thing but when it comes down to it all start and end with the same litany - _I’m sorry_.

 _I'msorryIscrewedup_  
_I'msorryI’msuchamess_  
_I'msorryIwasweak_  
_I'msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorrypleasepleasepleasecomeback_

Schneider settles for four phone calls that go straight to voicemail, two simple texts and an incorrect banner in the sky.

To Avery **[2:10pm]**  
_I'm sorry. For everything_

To Avery **[2:12 pm]**  
_I'm sober now. In recovery. Please call._

He spends the next three days glued to his cell phone, willing it to ping or ring or shoot a stream of glitter out of its case. Anything other than clicking on her name and seeing the stretch of empty space where her texts to him should be.

“ _Eschneider,_ ” Lydia nudges him. He looks up from staring at the phone in his hand. She gives him a questioning look.

“It's Avery,” he admits, leaning his head back on the sofa. It's the middle of the week and he's sitting with Lydia in her apartment, the two of them watching the latest episode of _El Amor y la Sangre_ on tv.

“She won’t return my calls,” he continues. “Any of them. Maybe Father is right. Maybe I am just a giant loser who is nothing but a huge disappointment to everyone around him.”

Lydia shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “No, no, no. You are not a disappointment. If Avery won’t return your calls then she is the _idiota_ , not you.”

Schneider closes his eyes. He feels tired, he feels so freaking tired. He’s nineteen days sober and each day is still a struggle. He tries not to think about how easily he threw eight years of sobriety away (Eight years! Just like _that_ ) but the small, evil voice in his head keeps reminding him of that (The voice sounds a lot like Father). Penelope, Nick and everyone in his meetings tell him he just needs to drown it out with positive thoughts, positive activities, his support system but he can’t right now. He misses Avery too much. As he thinks about her bright eyes and large smile he hears the opening of drawers and then feels Lydia sit back down on the sofa beside him. He opens his eyes to see her holding a piece of jewelry in her hands.

“A necklace?” He makes a face and straightens up. “Sorry Lydia but red is really not my color. I’m more of a blue or green tone man myself.”

“No, no.” Lydia fingers the beads and spreads her hands apart so Schneider can see it more clearly. “It’s not a necklace, it’s _El Santo Rosario_. My rosary.”

It’s a long circular chain made entirely of beads in various hues of red, at one end of the beads dangles a small silver cross. Schneider looks at Lydia questioningly.

“I use it to pray,” she explains. “Every evening before I go to bed, I talk to Berto and I say my rosary.”

“Okay,” Schneider says slowly, still confused. “That’s good…”

His voice trails off. Lydia gives him a soft smile and points to the rosary. “ _Mira_. There are five decades of the rosary. Each decade you pray to Jesús, you talk to him. However you can pray for a special person or special intention if you’d like. Me? I like to pray for my family.”

She takes the rosary and places a section of it in his hands. The beads feel cool as he runs his fingers through them. “First, I pray for the soul of _mi amor_ , my Berto.” She moves his hands to the next section of beads. “This decade is for Lupe.” She moves the beads again. “Then I pray for Tito, he’s a good boy. The fourth decade is for _mis hijos_ , Elena and Papito and the last,” she looks at him steadily as she moves the beads in his hand, the silver cross now nestled on top. Lydia takes his other hand and closes his palm around the rosary. Schneider can feel the sharp tip of the cross press into his skin. “The last I pray for _ju_.”

“Me?” Schneider’s mouth drops open. “Why?”

“Because Schneider, I pray for _mi familia_ ,” Lydia brings her hands up to gently cup his face. Her eyes are soft and affectionate. “And I meant it _mijo_ , when I said you are part of this family. I pray every day for _El Diablo_ to release you from his snare. You are not alone. So no matter what happens, remember you are a part of this family now. You are here” she taps the rosary with a manicured finger. “And in here,” she taps at her heart. “Always”.

Schneider takes a shaky breath. His hands are trembling as he stares at the beads, Lydia’s words repeating in his head _mifamiliamifamiliamifamilia_.

He looks back up at her. His eyes are wet. So are hers. “Lydia...I…..you....I...”

He can’t speak. There is a huge lump in his throat that makes words impossible. Lydia smiles softly. “I know,” she says as she leans over and gives him a brief kiss on his forehead. “ _Te quiero,_ Schneider.”

 _"Te quiero_ ,” repeats Schneider automatically back to her. He’s suddenly reminded of _sopa de roja_ and forehead kisses in a spacious room in El Segundo. He wants to cry. He wants to hug her. He wants to go back in time forty years and have her be the mother to a spoiled, rich white boy from Canada. Maybe then he won’t be so messed up. Maybe then he wouldn’t carry around so many demons on his shoulders. He cannot believe how close he came to throwing this woman and their relationship away - this beautiful, loving, sexy, wonderful woman. Acid burns in his gut like a heavy flame of guilt. He wipes his eyes and hands her back her rosary saying, “You know I’d marry you right now Lydia, if you’d have me. Everything I own would be yours.”

“Everything you own is already mine,” teases Lydia. “But I appreciate you trying to make it official. I mean really, what man can resist all this?” She runs her hands appreciatively down her sides causing Schneider to let out a quiet bark of laughter. “But _probrecito_ Schneider, you will find love again. Do not worry about Avery. She will call back. And if not there are lots of beautiful girls out there, just waiting for you. Just be patient, _mmmh_?”

“I’ll try,” promises Schneider. He’d do anything for Lydia. He’d do anything for any of them.

 

oOo

 

Victor’s wedding happens. Lydia makes a phone call ( _Ay Dios Mío_ he really does love that woman) and Avery comes back into his life just as quickly as she left it and suddenly they are in a relationship with a capital R.

(“You know you really shouldn’t start a new relationship during your first year of sobriety,” cautions his sponsor.

“But it’s not new,” Schneider says, “It’s just a continuation of an old one that was interrupted.”

Nick raises his eyebrows at him but says nothing.)

Seeing her at the wedding was great. Avery is so beautiful, kind and loving that Schneider’s heart had nearly leapt out of his chest when he spotted her on that dance floor. They spend the rest of the reception holed up at a too small table in the corner, lost in their own little world and it’s electrifying. Being with her feels like the sun finally came out from behind the clouds again. But the next evening they go get dinner together at this little Thai place near her house and there are many more gaps of silence between them as they sit at their table then there ever was before.

“Great food,” is all Schneider can think of to say before shoving more noodles in his mouth. Avery nods and wordlessly agrees. Schneider wonders why they are so weird with each other. This isn’t their first date, they’ve always had plenty to talk about. They talked at the wedding just fine (well, mostly they stared goofily into each other’s eyes across the table as they held hands but that totally counts). Is it because he’s not really a relationship man? Is Avery still walking around him on eggshells because he relapsed? Is it because he has moments of self doubt when he questions why anyone would want to be with an addict like him and she is picking up on it? He mentions it all to Penelope when she’s studying at his apartment later than night (“T-minus 5 days to the boards and counting!”) and she scoffs at him.

“You got to give it time, Schneider,” she tells him. “Your relationship is not going to fall into place instantly. You both have issues you are working through. Just remember, addiction doesn’t make your value as a human being any less.” She places her hands on either side his face and looks at him, intently. Her gaze does not waver from his. “You are worthy of love.”

Schneider grimaces. “You know I follow you on Insta now, right? You don’t also need to be inspirational in person.”

She swats at him but her lips twitch in amusement. “You just wait. I found a great quote to post for tomorrow.”

Schneider wakes up the next day to the sound of birds chirping and flashing of blue light from his phone on his nightstand. He reaches over to unlock it, ignores his text messages and opens Instagram to check Penelope’s newest post.

**You are the author of your own story and you get to determine what you will write next - Anonymous.**

He rolls his eyes in a mixture of exasperation and fondness. He makes himself sits up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist as he opens his texts and types out a quick message.

To: Penelope Alvarez **[06:35 AM]**  
_I am not a writer_

  
From: Penelope Alvarez **[06:37 AM]**  
_Ugh_  
_Fine_  
_Hang on_  
**[06:39 AM]**  
The best way to get something  
done is to begin  
Your life does not get better by  
chance, it gets better by change

To: Penelope Alvarez **[06:40 AM]**  
_To repeat the words of your mother and_  
_and Alex: NERD_

From: Penelope Alvarez **[06:41]**  
_Mami was the one who found_  
_this quote so…_

To: Penelope Alvarez **[06:44 AM]**  
_Be honest_  
_How many of these quotes do_  
_you have saved on your phone?_

From: Penelope Alvarez **[06:45 AM]**  
_Depends_  
_How many pictures of dogs in wigs_  
_do you have saved on yours?_

  
To: Penelope Alvarez **[06:45 AM]**  
_Touché, my friend, touché_

From: Penelope Alvarez [ **06:46 AM]**  
:)

 

Schneider sets his phone back on his dresser and jumps in the shower. He spends the entire time showering scoffing at Penelope’s attempts to motivate him. She’s something else, his friend. However in the middle of rinsing off Schneider suddenly remembers the lines of disappointment he saw etched on his father’s face before he kicked him out of his apartment and his stomach turns. Before he realizes it he’s towel drying off, muttering under his breath _I am the author of my own story. I am the author of my own story. I am the author of my own story._

He feels his breathing began to even out as he repeats that mantra over and over again. He heads into the living towards his laptop, he needs to find an earlier AA meeting for today. As he walks he grabs his phone and presses save on the image.

When Penelope sees her IG post as his phone’s wallpaper the next day, she says nothing. She simply just grins widely, her eyes dancing. He grins right back, his heart oddly light.

 

oOo

 

Penelope graduates from nursing school and Schneider is so proud he can barely keep all his emotions inside of him (spoiler alert: he doesn’t). He cries so much he goes through three packages of Kleenex, one handkerchief from Dr. B and a baby burp cloth from the nice couple sitting in the row of chairs in front of them that took pity on him. He takes so many videos and pictures of the ceremony that his backup charger eventually runs out of batteries.

“Schneider,” Penelope is laughing at him, tugging him over to where she is standing underneath her college’s banner, her cap slightly askew on top of her head. Schneider looks at her and is suddenly struck by how _gorgeous_ Penelope is, how beautiful she is in this moment, _her_ moment. Happiness is poring out of her soul and it’s so contagious that it is infusing him. He laughs back and lets her tug him along.

“Come on,” she says as she positions the two of them under the banner and nods at Tito who is holding his phone up, ready to take the picture. “I need a photo of me and you.”

Schneider places his arm around her shoulders. “You know Pen,” he says, his voice suddenly soft and husky. “I am in awe of you and everything you do.”

“Really?” Penelope turns slightly towards him and tilts her head up, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in a smile.

He squeezes her shoulders and smile back at her. “Absolutely, girl. Your miracle happened. I am so proud.”

“I’m proud of you too,” she says, her expression open and honest. He feels something warm shifting in his chest. “Thank you for always believing in me.”

Tito snaps a picture at that precise moment -the two of them with their arms around each other, Schneider looking down and Penelope gazing up; their faces a mixture of pride, awe and love. Tito will later send the picture to Schneider with the caption _what’s going on between you and my sister?_

Schneider response to Tito is simple: _we are best friends_. But he saves the picture to his phone. Other than the photo of him, Dr. Berkowitz, Lydia and the kids with Penelope (that he has blown up and made into three copies – one for him, one for the Alvarez’s and one for the Doc), this picture is his favorite from her graduation day.

He pulls it out late at night sometimes when he’s having trouble sleeping and stares at the man in the picture. The one smiling, the one joyful, the one that is capable of loving others and being loved in returned. That is the man he wants to be. The man that Penelope sees, the man that Avery still wants to be with, that is the man he is striving to become.

The negative voices in his head get a bit softer.

 

oOo

 

Lydia and Dr. B are in ~~Florida~~ Cuba and Schneider feels adrift. The first four days they are gone he wanders around aimlessly in his apartment in between AA meetings, handyman duties and dates with Avery. He cycles, he Jazzercises, he puzzles, he plays Xbox, he makes homemade jam, he macramé with Mrs. Watson and then he starts his own YouTube Channel where he opens boxes (fun twist: the boxes are all empty). Even after all that he still feels incredibly antsy.

“Are you okay?” Avery asks worriedly on the evening of day five with no Lydia. She is perched on the arm of his sofa, watching Schneider play with an antique fingerprinting kit. He has already inked the first four fingers on his right hand and is concentrating very slowly on his thumb.

“No,” Schneider admits honestly, pushing his thumb down on the ink pad. He sighs. “I miss Lydia.” He thinks of the paper he has stuffed into his wallet, the one with the names of people he can call and list of activities he can do to prevent a future relapse (crochet, puzzle, visit the Alvarez's). Lydia is on both lists.

Avery continues to watch him, a slight frown creasing her forehead as Schneider removes his thumb and then presses it very carefully to the tattered cloth, getting the marking just right. He pulls back and examines it. Satisfied, he wipes off his hand and then starts the process over with his pointer finger.

“I’ll be right back,” Avery says after another few minutes of silence. Schneider looks up in surprise but she’s out the door before he can say anything. He goes back to tinkering with his kit. Five more minutes pass before his apartment door opens up but it isn’t Avery who enters, its Penelope.

“So I hear you are sulking?”

Schneider gives her a _look_ and then lowers himself further down on the couch, intent on his work. “I am not sulking,” he declares. “I am fingerprinting my hand.”

“Oh really?” Penelope raises her eyebrows and points at his face. “So what is going on with your lower lip there? Is that a pout?”

“No.” There is a pause. “Maybe.”

Penelope laughs and makes her way over to the sofa. She sits down right next to him, her body pressed alongside his. She nudges him with her shoulder, smiles softly. “Come on, talk to me. Avery mentioned that you miss Mami?”

Schneider sighs and nods, setting the inkwell down to turn sideways towards Penelope. He lets a deep breath out. “Yeah. I usually see her everyday. We have a routine together. We go down and get our mail, make fun of the tiny dog in with the ridiculous sweaters in Apartment 101, then come back upstairs and watch reality tv or our soaps while we eat lunch.” He shrugs, feeling sad. “She's my apartment buddy.”

“Oh, Schneider,” Penelope’s face is kind as she places her palm on his arm, her touch reassuring. “I see her everyday too but believe me, I am not missing her right now.”

“Penelope!”

“Kidding! Kidding! I am just kidding, you dummy. Of course I miss that _viejita_ , but I’m not sitting around pouting because of it. She is enjoying herself in Cuba and she will be home soon. Promise. Now, come on. Yes, one Alvarez is in Cuba right now but there are still three other Alvarez’s in this building and guess what, we are having ice cream!”

“Ice cream?” Schneider is intrigued. Then a sudden suspicion crosses his mind. “You aren’t doing this to make me feel better are you? I’m not a child, Pen.”

“No, of course not,” protests Penelope but her eyes are sparking and she’s got an impish look on her face that he recognizes from her interactions with Alex and Elena. “We just wanted to have ice cream tonight with you and Avery. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to but Avery is already down there scooping out servings. And I will warn you that if we don’t get our butts down there fast, I have three hungry teenagers who will go through all the good toppings and then we’ll be stuck with only the chopped nuts and the single, sad looking cherry in the jar.”

“Nuts are the worst. They aren't even candy!”

“Exactly.” Penelope stands up and stretches her hand out to him, her expression affectionate as she plays her final card. “Come on Schneider. Alvarez family time.”

He goes downstairs with Penelope and watches as Alex and Avery have a competition to see who can cover their ice cream in the most whipped cream (Avery wins and Schneider is a bit too gleeful in lording it over Alex). Syd and Elena sit with their banana splits on the sofa and have a conversation so intent that Syd’s ice cream melts before they can finish it, causing Alex to make them chug it super-fast Rocky style in which Schneider wholeheartedly approves. Penelope suggests a board game once they are all done eating and the teenagers groan in protest but eventually oblige. As the kids make room on the coffee table for the game board, Penelope turns to Schneider who is standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Better?” she asks, looking up at him hopefully.

Schneider looks at his family and then back at Penelope. “Yeah,” he says, giving her a side hug and dropping a kiss to her head before heading over to the sofa to join the commotion. “Much.”

Neither Schneider nor Penelope notices Avery watching them from the kitchen, her expression curious.

  
oOo

 

Elena has a anxiety attack in his apartment on his seventy-first day of sobriety.

She’s working on her college essays at Schneider’s apartment (“I need peace and quiet, both things Alex and Abuelita are decidedly _not_.”). She’s at his desk, typing quietly on her laptop. Schneider is over by the window, sitting on a stool in front of an art easel, Bob Ross on the large monitor in front of him. He pauses in his painting to note the _spectacular_ way he drew the mountain with his paintbrush; it looks pretty _legit_ if he does say so himself. He glances over to tell Elena how amazing he is, when he sees the stricken expression on her face.

Her eyes are large and round behind her glasses, her face shining with perspiration. She is staring off into the distance, taking very choppy breaths.

“Elena.” Alarmed Schneider gets up and walks to her, his painting forgotten. “Elena, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer and then he suddenly realizes who she reminds him off - Penelope during an anxiety attack. He lowers his voice and crouches down beside the desk, his face at her level. “Elena, you are okay,” he reassures her in a low, calm tone. “You are okay.”

She says nothing, just looks at him shakily as she continues to struggle with getting air to her lungs. “Elena, I need you to breathe for me,” he says, reaching out and grabbing her hands. He is usually cognizant of boundaries with Elena and Alex, he always strives to respect them and their personal space but Schneider recalls the way that Penelope disappears into herself when she is having a anxiety attack and touch seems to help bring her back. He hopes it helps Elena –his phone with dogs in wigs is in the other room. “Let’s count to five together and breathe in.”

He leads off. “One, two, three, four, five. Good, now let it out. Good job.” He says, softly. Her hands are still clenched around his. “You are safe, Elena,” Schneider repeats, his gaze fixed on hers. “You are at my apartment. You are safe. Deep breathe in and out. Let’s count again to five. One, two…”

At the end of five, color has returned to Elena’s cheeks and she is blinking at him. She lets out a final deep breath and lets go of his hands, rubbing at her chest.

“Better?”

At her nod, Schneider stands up. “Hold on, I’m going to get you some things.”

He returns with a glass of water and a dishtowel from the kitchen. He hands both to Elena, noting with approval that she drinks half the glass before wiping her face and shoulders with the dishtowel. He reaches behind her to pull a small spray bottle from the shelf and hands it to her. “It’s violets,” he says in response to her questioning gaze. “Lavender oil is usually what is used to promote calmness and reduce stress but I’ve noticed your mom reacts better to the smell of violets. I think it reminds her of your abuelita.”

Elena sprays some into the air and takes a sniff. He notices the way she visibly relaxes at the smell and the tension in his shoulders eases a little. She takes another shaky breath. “Thanks, Schneider.”

“Come on. Let’s go sit on the couch for a bit, get you away from all this.”

After they sit down he asks, “What happened?”

“I was working on my application essay, trying to figure out how to answer the question and all the words I was writing down were not making sense. It was like I was just writing and writing but it was all gibberish. And then I started thinking this was it, this is as far as I will ever get. I peaked in high school and I will never get any further and I’ll be a failure in college and then a failure in life and one day I’ll be washing fancy cars on the side of the road and it’ll probably be Alex’s cars and I just started feeling this heavy pressure on my chest. I started to have a anxiety attack.”

Elena sighs. “I get them sometimes,” she adds. “But I’m certain Mami already told you that.”

“She did,” he remarks. “But only because she wanted me to be aware in case it happened when I was around and I could help.”

“Well you did,” admits Elena. “You were oddly soothing.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

‘I’m not!” Elena looks at him, gratefully. “Usually Mami, Syd or Alex will walk me through my attacks. They know what to do. But you were really helpful, Schneider. Seriously. Thank you.”

Schneider nods his head in acknowledgement and then asks, carefully. “How frequent are your attacks?”

“Used to be only every few months but now, with test preparation and college essays, and financial aid forms to fill out, honestly they been coming almost other week. I usually try to mediate to help calm me but I just haven’t had time lately.”

“Have you talked to anyone about it? Like a specialist?”

“No….do you think I should?”

“I go to a therapist. Multiple therapists actually.” He shrugs. “And it’s helped me. It might help you. At the very least a therapist might be able to help you identify your triggers, so you can be more aware of them in the future in order to reduce the frequency and intensity of your attacks.”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s just…” Elena exhales and lays her head on the back of his sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “I just don’t want this to be another thing that people make fun of me for.”

“Hey, it could be worse. You could be a recovering alcoholic or drug addict. Oh wait, that’s me.”

“Schneider! You shouldn’t joke about things like that!” Elena’s mouth is open in shock. “Those things don’t define you.”

“And your anxiety doesn’t define you. At all. Remember that.”

“Okay,” she nods, pondering. “I will.”

Later that week as they are doing handyman and handyma’am duties Elena will causally mention to him that she has an appointment scheduled with her doctor for the following Friday. Schneider will get so excited that he asks to hug her and she rolls her eyes at him for asking (“You are family, Schneider. We hug.”) but then happily obliges.

It’s a good day for him.

He tells the story to the men at his group. Not the particulars (it is Elena’s story after all), but just that Elena was going through something and he was able to help her. _He_ , an addict, was able to help _her,_ one of the best people he knows. Schneider gets choked up towards the end of his story but none of the men seem to mind. In fact, they seem to understand. Izzy, the large muscular man to his right who used to live on the streets and hasn’t seen his kids in three years thumps Schneider on his shoulder in solidarity and then hands him a box of tissues.

“You did good, Pat. You did real good.”

Schneider sleeps well that night. No negative voices in his head, only Elena’s large smile and tight hug. He’s going to miss her dreadfully when she goes off to college.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! This really is the kindest of fandoms and the positive response totally overwhelmed me so thank you.
> 
> Side-note: from the best of my S3 re-watching ability Schneider relapsed in late May. So that is the timeline I am following for this fic. Also since I forgot to mention it last chapter, warning for mild cuss words.

One of the first things that happens in the initial months of Schneider relapsing is that he is introduced to a friend of a friend named John who runs a weekly Friday night men’s group at his home in Los Feliz for recovering addicts of long term sobriety. The first time Schneider meets him John shakes his hand, smiles and then asks him two questions - questions Schneider will later realize dominant the entire functionally and purpose of this men’s recovery group.

“What caused you to relapse?”

“Not going to meetings regularly anymore and seeing my father again,” responds Schneider, honestly.

“And who or what caused you to seek sobriety again?”

“My family.”

John nods and that is it. Later that evening the men start to talk about belonging and about the importance of a strong support system in addition to other forms of treatments for addiction. They talk about the choices they have to make on a daily basis between falling back into the thorns of addiction and staying sober and over half of them mention family as their fundamental motivation for long lasting change - their parents, girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, wives, siblings, children etc. Last time Schneider was in recovery he didn’t have a family to mention. He didn’t have anyone other than Lydia who cared about whether or not he succeeded at sobriety. This time however he does. And he’s surprised by how much of a difference it makes to him.

“I have two kids,” says one of the men. “And when my wife told me she was leaving me and taking the kids I realized I had to get sober if I wanted to stay a part of their lives. I needed to set a good example for them from now on, despite my past.”

Schneider remembers Penelope’s words from that fateful day - _you want to be a good role model for the kids, right?_ and he finds himself nodding along in agreement. Tears prickle his eyes, but he doesn’t shake them off. He’s spent too many years ignoring his emotions and hiding his pain. He wants to feel it, all of it and he wants to survive it. Not just survive it though.

He wants, for the first time in a very long time, to _thrive._

oOo

 

Penelope starts laughing the minute he opens their apartment door.

“Schneider,” she says from the couch. “What the heck are you wearing?”

Schneider looks down, his gaze following his Tommy Bahama blue button up shirt with the Dodger logo embroidered on the back, his white cargo shorts dotted with tiny baseballs and baseball bats and then ends down at his feet, encased in size thirteen Vans, Dodger logo on both sides.

“Um,” he says, perplexed at her question. “Dodger gear. We are going to a Dodger game, after all.”

Pen is still laughing. “That is not Dodger gear – this is Dodger gear.” She gestures to her outfit – faded blue jeans and a well-worn Dodger t-shirt. “You on the other hand are looking like a model for _GQ,_ baseball edition.”

Schneider starts to smile. He raises an eyebrow, preens. “You think I’m a _GQ_ model?”

“No. I’m saying your ridiculous outfit makes you look like you’re trying to _be_ one. And not in a good way.”

“Potato, Potatoe. You think I look like a model. You think I’m model-esque.”

Penelope’s eyes roll back so far in her head that Schneider is surprised she doesn’t topple over. “ _Ohmygod_ Schneider. You seriously cannot wear that to the game, people will be staring."

"Let 'em stare." He opens his arms wide. "I've got nothing to hide. Alex!" He yells.

"Why are you calling Ale-" Penelope breaks off as her son walks into the living room. She looks at him, then back at Schneider, then back at Alex. She groans. " _Ay Dios Mio_ there are two of you."

Alex smirks. "You like?" he asks, doing a slow turn so his mother can see every inch of him. Alex is dressed, all the way down to the Dodger Vans sneakers, in the same exact outfit Schneider is wearing.

"No, no, no, no, no." Penelope starts shaking her head. She looks at Schneider who is beaming broadly. " _Your_ crazy outfits are one thing, but now you got Alex into this. Papito,” she says to her son, disappointingly. “I thought you had better taste than this."

"I really don’t." The teenager admits. He then flicks up his collar and smiles widely. "Besides, I make this old man outfit look _good_."

"Old man outfit." Schneider crosses his arms and huffs at Alex, insulted.  "I'll have you know these cargo shorts were found in the young men's section at Nordstrom’s!"

" _Ay Dios Mio_ ," repeats Penelope for the third time. She sets her face in her hands and then looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for forgiveness. "What have I done to deserve this?"

“Don’t worry Mom, we got you a matching outfit too."

Alex nods at Schneider who runs gleefully out the apartment door, returning in seconds with a short sleeve, long pant jumpsuit on a hanger. It is dark blue and like the shorts Alex and Schneider are wearing, it is also patterned with tiny baseballs and bats. Schneider enthusiastically hands the jumpsuit to Penelope stating proudly, "Now you don’t have to feel left out."

Penelope stares at the outfit in hands. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Mami,” Alex frowns. “I thought you liked dressing up.”

“Not in a costume. And not matching -no offense- you two.”

“Offense!” says Schneider, clutching his chest in mock horror and staggering backwards, dramatically.

“But Mom, I thought you wanted family time today,” Alex furrows his brow. “You know with Elena off to college next year and me getting older, this might be one of the last summers we have to do stuff together. I won’t be living here forever, you know.”

“Yeah. Come on, Pen. Do it for the kid.”

Penelope stares at the two of them, then at the jumpsuit in her lap. “Well,” she admits after a long moment, begrudgingly.  “Blue _is_ my color.’

There is a beat of silence and then Schneider and Alex can’t keep it in any longer. They both start to laugh, hysterically. Penelope stares at them, utterly confused.

“What just happened?”

“We’re not matching,” Schneider manages to get out through his chuckles, his grin broad. He sits down in the kitchen chair closest to Penelope and leans back, still laughing. "You really thought we would be in matching outfits? Come on Penelope. Alex is way too cool for that.”

“Dang, Mami,” says Alex. He shakes his head as he perches on the arm of the sofa and looks at her. “Vans, really? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“ _Ay_ quiet.” Penelope shoves Alex’s shoulder and then pulls him closer, hugging him briefly. She taps his arm. “Stop listening to Schneider. _And_ I want you to return the clothing and shoes to him. Now go get changed or we’ll be late to the game.”

“And you,” she turns to Schneider as Alex exits the living room after giving Schneider an obligatory high-five. “Stop being in cahoots with my son.”

“But it’s fun. We even have a name for it – _How to Freak Penelope Out_. Next Wednesday will be a game changer, be ready bestie.”

Penelope rolls her eyes in exasperation, then looks closer at Schneider. She cocks her head to the side, studies him. “You seem happy.”

“I am.”

“No, like _really_ happy. What happened? You get laid?”

“Penelope Alvarez!” Schneider gasps, fake-appalled. “I swear, ladies these days. No sense of proper etiquette anymore.”

Penelope grabs the pillow next to her and pretends to throw it at him. Schneider laughs. “Avery and I are doing great, Pen. Thank you for asking. But no, that is not the whole reason for my good mood.” He reaches into his pocket knowing that out of all people, she will understand the importance of today. He pulls out a green token, leans forward and hands it to Penelope. “My good mood is because of this.

Penelope holds the small token in her hand, tracing the stamped letters with her thumb. She looks up at him, eyes shining with delight and pride.

“3 months?”

“3 months,” he confirms.

“Oh Schneider.” She places her other hand on her chest, overwhelmed. She inspects his sobriety chip a bit longer before handing it back to him, squeezing his hand briefly as she does. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Pen. I couldn’t have gotten to today with your support, you know that.”

She nods. And then reaches up to the corner of her eye to wipe a small tear.

“Whoa,” His heart kicking up in his chest, Schneider instantly moves from the chair to the couch and wraps his arms around her in a side hug. Penelope leans into him. “Are you crying?”

“A little. I’m just so proud of you.” Penelope’s voice is slightly wobbly, and it makes Schneider want to hug her even tighter. “I spent so many years taking your sobriety for granted, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. But _it is_ a big deal Schneider, it is and you have completed 3 months. 90 days Schneider, 90 days.”

Her voice trails off as she tips her head back to look up at him, eyes still large with unshed tears but her voice now fierce. “Addiction is a fucking demon, Schneider. And it takes a tremendous act of courage to stand up to it. And you are doing that, every single damn day and _oh_. It’s just a lot.”

Schneider tucks a loose curl back behind her ear and presses her head briefly to his chest, his heart thumping widely as reminds himself to breathe. Penelope’s unwavering faith in him is something that he has yet to find in anyone else, it is unparalleled. He never wants to take it for granted again.

He never _will_ take it for granted again.

“Thank you, Pen,” is all he can manage to say. “Thank you.” He squeezes her shoulders. Behind him he can hear Alex coming back down the hall. “Now come on, baseball time. I’ll even buy you a Dodger dog.”

“Will you put everything on it?”

“Well _duh_.”

oOo

 

Schneider goes to a gala with Avery at the National History Museum and he’s completely uncomfortable from the moment they arrive. It’s supporting a cause that is near and dear to Avery’s heart (endangered sea turtles) and she’s ecstatic being there and he loves that’s she’s so happy but honestly standing there in a sea of rich people mingling and talking makes him want to vomit. They are all so fake -these people with their dyed hair and perfectly made-up faces in their expensive tuxedos and fancy ball gowns. They don’t care about anyone other than themselves and their “kind” and he’s reminded so much of Father and the world he thought he left behind that Schneider feels himself start to get claustrophobic. He sneaks out of the pavilion to the less crowded side room and pulls out his phone.

 **To Penelope Alvarez** [9:10 PM]  
_I hate rich people_

 **From Penelope Alvarez** [9:13 PM]  
_Me too_  
_All that money pfft_  
_Who needs that?_

 **To Penelope Alvarez** [9:14 PM]  
_My tux is itchy_

 **To Penelope Alvarez** [9:15 PM]  
_And my shoes are tight_

 **From Penelope Alvarez** [9:15 PM]  
_Welcome to womanhood_

 

Schneider chuckles out loud. He’s just about to respond back and tease her for making such a gender specific joke (Elena would _not_ be amused) when he hears his name being called. “Schneider!”

He looks up to see Avery coming towards him in a brilliant teal and silver ball gown. Tonight she has her contacts in, high heels on and she looks so breathtaking beautiful that Schneider feels completely inadequate in his tuxedo standing next to her in comparison. She reaches his side and lays her hand on his forearm, her touch gentle. “I’ve been looking for you. Is everything okay?”

She’s worried. He can make out slight anxiety in her eyes and Schneider smiles to reassure her. “I just stepped out to use the restroom and check my phone. I was on my way back in.”

She smiles back, her expression soft. “You sure?” she asks. “We can leave if you want, it’s no problem.”

“No, no,” protests Schneider. “I am fine.”

He is, sort of. He just doesn’t know how to find the words to explain to her that he’d rather be anywhere else other than here with all these rich people tonight. Partly because he is not sure she’d understand (she may be a kindergarten teacher but she still partially exists in this world) and partly because he doesn’t want her to feel guilty for bringing him. He did say yes knowing he might end up feeling like this. He gives her another flash of a smile.

“Okay,” Avery says, accepting his words at face value. She gestures with her head. “Come on. I have some people I want you to meet.”

Schneider tucks his phone back into his pocket and takes her hand, letting her lead him back into the pavilion. He takes a deep breath in as they re-join the large crowd.

By the time they reach her friends, he’s smiling with ease.

 

 

(“Sometimes I feel like a chameleon.” Schneider tells Nick the next time he sees him outside of a meeting. It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon and they are sitting in lounge chairs on the top deck of Nick’s yacht, the gentle sway of the boat relaxing Schneider into a state of contentment almost as much as the brilliant blue of the Pacific Ocean in front of him.

“In what way?” asks Nick, hat pulled halfway down his face, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He is the epitome of relaxation.

“I change to fit into different social groups, different situations. Depending on where I am I can change my clothes, my hair, my speech patterns. I’ve been conditioned to be a chameleon, to make people feel comfortable around me. I think-“

Schneider falls silent. To his left, Nick is quiet, patiently waiting. Schneider takes in another deep breath before continuing, “I think it’s from when I was a child. Always wanting Father to like me, pay attention to me, notice me. Thinking if I was a little more this or a little less that I’d be his favorite child. Or at least that is what my therapist told me this week. She pointed out that I have a deep desire to please people, to make them like me. So I change who I am to be accepted by them.”

“Shit runs deep, Pat. Especially the wounds of childhood.” Nick peers thoughtfully at him from under his hat. “Can I ask you a question though?”

“Shoot.”

“When do you feel the most you? Like really you? The truest version of yourself? No chameleon disguise needed?”

Schneider’s response comes out almost instantaneously. Like his mouth is a second faster than his brain. “With Penelope.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Not Avery?”

“Hhmm” responds Schneider, thoughtfully. “No, not Avery. Not yet anyways. Its just…Pen is my best friend, I know where I stand with her.” Schneider tilts his head back and stretches his legs out more, the sun warm on his face. “She calls me on my bullshit and she doesn’t let me get away with stuff but she’s supportive too. She’s always in my corner. I can be myself with her, demons and all and it doesn’t scare her.” The corners of his lips quirk up slightly. “She’s too much of a badass to be scared by me anyways.”

“Good. Then keep her in your corner and when you feel like you’ve done too many outfit changes, go hang out with her. Or me,” Nick stares out at the sunlight glittering off the waves. “This view here isn’t so bad, yeah?”

“Nope,” admits Schneider as the two men sit together in a comfortable silence. “It’s not bad at all.”)

 

oOo

 

Dr. Berkowitz has another birthday and the Alvarez’s have another party for him.

Scott and Lori do not come this time (Scott has an Bumble date and Lori has been mysteriously quiet about her non-work social time according to Penelope) but Schneider brings Avery and Elena brings Syd and Alex complains so much that he has no one to bring that Penelope lets him invite two of the guys from the baseball team (not Finn, thank goodness. Schneider still goes out of his way to avoid Nikki whenever he sees her at St. Bibiana).

Lydia’s food is fantastic as usual and they all sing happy birthday to Dr. Berkowitz in their own unique combination of Spanish and English (Alex throws in some Yiddish just to make the Doc smile).

After cake is eaten, Dr. Berkowitz needs to go (“My daughter said she might call me tonight on the home phone after 9pm. Oh, I am so excited!”) and as he leaves, Lydia leans over and brushes a light kiss to his cheek.

“ _Feliz Cumpleaños_ Leslie,” she says. Dr. Berkowitz turns a bright shade of red and then stammers, “Oh my. Oh my.”

He presses his fingers to the spot on his cheek. “What a wonderful birthday. Thank you, Lydia.” He looks at the rest of them. “Thank you, Penelope.”

He lets himself out of their apartment, still a little dazed and ecstatic and Penelope turns to tease her mother as soon as the door closes behind him.

“Mami,” she says. “You kissed him.”

“I did not kiss him, I pressed my lips to his cheek. As a goodbye.”

“You kissed him, you _liiiike_ him.”

Penelope and Schneider exchange looks and then, without any prompting, they simultaneously burst into song together.

_“Lydia and Leslie sitting in a tree- K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“_

Elena and Syd start to laugh as Lydia harshly scolds the two adults. Alex and his friends grin as they use the distraction to their advantage and grab second slices of cake. Avery sits back in her seat, observing everything from the table. The party breaks up shortly after that and Schneider and Avery head upstairs.

“You and Penelope are pretty good friends, huh?” Avery asks as they enter his apartment.

“She’s my best friend. They all are.”

“Yeah, but you two are really close, right?”

Schneider looks at her and realizes she is worried. Like _actually_ worried about his relationship with Penelope. “Avery,” he says as he grabs her hands, needing to touch her. “Penelope is my best friend. But that’s it. We’re just friends.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. Look, Avery. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m a little messed up,” he admits letting her go and running his hands over his beard. “Honestly, a lot messed up. But Penelope and her family, they help me be not so messed up.”

“I don’t think you’re messed up.”

“Well, you’d be the first.”

oOo

 

Schneider is on the phone with Avery one Saturday night in early November when he hears a knock at his front door. He looks through the peephole and sees Penelope, her face a unique mixture of anxiety and sadness.

“Hey Avery, I’m going to have to call you back,” he says into the phone, barely waiting for her response before hanging up and reaching for the knob.

“Nicole is pregnant.”

Schneider nearly falls out of his open door. “Oh wow.”

Penelope brushes past him, not pausing as she talks. “They told the kids at dinner tonight. Wanted it to be the right moment. Someplace special, someplace nice and fancy. They had steak.” She turns towards him as he closes the door. “I only found out because Victor texted me on their way back. He didn't want me to feel ambushed when the kids got home. He wanted me to know ahead of time.”

“That's kind of him.” At Penelope's scowl Schneider suddenly backtracks. Fast. “Mean of him, I meant to say. Wow, what a jerk.”

“No, no, you are right.” She groans. “He's not a jerk. I'm glad he told me so I could put on a happy face for Elena and Alex.”

“Did it work?”

Penelope shrugs. “Maybe for Alex but Elena didn't buy it. She and Mami have spent the last hour watching me like a hawk. I only escaped by pretending I had to take out the trash.”

“Are the kids okay?”

“Alex is shocked, but a little excited too. Elena has more baggage when it comes to Victor, so I think she needs more time to process everything first before she can talk about it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. Oh, I don't know.” She stands in the middle of his living room, her face a myriad of varying expressions as she lifts her hands half-heartedly in the air.

“It's just….we got married, together. We had the kids, together. We went to Afghanistan, together. We were supposed to be in this together. Forever. And now…..” her breath catches. “He's someone else's husband. Now he's going to be someone else's dad. It's just….a lot to handle. I feel so...alone."

She buries her face in her hands and something shatters in Schneider’s chest at the sight. Penelope suddenly looks so _small_ standing there in her t-shirt and pajama bottoms in the middle of his unlit living room. He knows many adjectives to describe Penelope Alvarez and small is nowhere near the top of the list. “Pen.” He's at her side in three strides and pulls her towards him in a tight hug. “Penelope, it's…..”

He wants to say it's going to be okay. He wants to say it's going to be fine. He wants to reassure her in a thousand different ways. But he doesn't know if it will be okay, not really. And he promised himself one hundred and seventy-five days ago he wouldn't lie to his best friend ever again. So instead he tightens his arms around her waist, leans down and presses his cheek to her hair. “Oh, Pen,” is what he whispers instead. “You aren't alone.”

Penelope burrows into him. She says nothing but eventually Schneider feels a trickle of tears slowly wetting his shirt. He walks backwards until his legs hit the couch and he drops down, pulling Penelope with him. She sits half on his lap, half on the couch, her face still buried in his chest, his arms still around her. Schneider runs his hands up and down her back in a steady motion. He doesn't say anything else, just holds her while she cries.

After a few minutes her crying slows and she loosens her grip on him. “Oh look at me,” sniffs Penelope, raising her head from his chest and wiping at her eyes. “Crying about a husband I'm no longer with. I'm such a mess.”

“Not really,” Schneider replies, reaching behind her to grab a Kleenex from the coffee table and handing it to her. “ You aren’t a true mess until you are waking up in Texas one afternoon wearing a cowboy hat and nothing else in the barn of a cattle rancher with five daughters. Two of which are super hot and look _extremely_ alike and all you can remember is that you were with at least one of them the night before at in a club in Chicago.”

“Chicago to Texas in one night, really?”

“Oh yeah. Trying to explain that one to Father was hard. Especially once I realized I had only fake Monopoly money in my wallet to get me back home.”

Penelope chuckles, drying her eyes. “Okay, you win. You are a bigger mess than me.”

“Thank you ma'am,” drawls Schneider, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat at her. “That is very obliging of you.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes are still red but the corners of her mouth tip up into a brief smile. The tightness loosens a bit in Schneider’s chest. Penelope slides off his lap, settling more comfortably into the empty space on the sofa beside him. He raises his arm and she curls herself into the crook he makes, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don't want him anymore, you know,” she admits after a beat of silence, staring off into the distance, her brow furrowed. “I'm not upset because of that.”

“I know.”

“And I want him to be happy, Schneider. I truly do. Him, Nicole and this new baby.

“I know.”

“It's just…….” She lets out a deep sigh and idly picks at a loose thread in her pajama bottoms. “It sucks. It just really, really sucks. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Life wasn't supposed to turn out like this.”

“I know.”

Penelope turns towards him and suddenly there’s a moment of real honesty and understanding between them as their eyes meet. He gets it, he totally gets it –life sometimes throws curve-balls and it can be real crappy at times. He doesn’t know what else to say so he merely gives her a forehead kiss and leans his head on top of hers.

Penelope sighs again and motions to his giant TV. “Can I stay for awhile? I'm just not ready to go back down to my apartment just yet.”

“Of course. Stay as long as you want”.

“Thanks, Schneider.”

“Anytime.”

 

 

It’s late by the time Penelope finally leaves his apartment and Schneider figures Avery is probably asleep by now. He settles for a quick text, knowing he’ll talk to her in the morning.

He meets up with her the next day for brunch at their favorite breakfast spot in Culver City and the first words out of Schneider’s mouth when he sees her are an immediate apology.

“I am so sorry I didn’t call you back like I promised. It got really late and I didn’t want to call and wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” says Avery, leaning in to give him a kiss. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Penelope was dealing with something last night and she needed a friend.”

Avery stills. “Penelope, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s alright now but you know, sometimes you just need someone to talk to.”

“Of course,” Avery responds, a little quieter than usual. Schneider looks at her in surprise but before he can say anything else she pushes her glasses back up onto her nose and smiles, brightly. “And you are a great person to talk to. Now come, waffles are calling.”

 

 

(“How did you know Berto was _The One_?” Schneider asks Lydia the next afternoon as they are leaning back on the sofa with their eyes closed, face masks on and timer set.

“I just knew,” Lydia responds, a smile in her voice. “Everything inside of me screamed _“!Sí!”_ at the sight of him. I just felt _home_.”

“Oh.”

“That is the same for _ju_ and Avery, no?”

He is slow in responding. “Yes.”)

oOo

 

One of the things Schneider has learned to do in his multiples attempts at rehab and recovery over the years is moral inventory. He’s still skeptical of the religious aspect of Step Four, religion in general is not really his thing, but as he has gotten older he understands the importance of taking stock of one’s life and life choices and letting go of any resentment, fear or other attitudes that one may harbor towards others. It’s exhausting, it’s difficult and it’s terrifying but it’s also the most freeing thing he can do for himself and those around him.

He doesn’t complete it right away this time though.

 

(“Schneider,” Nick asks him patiently one day. “What is blocking you from starting Step Four?”

Schneider is quiet for the longest time. “I am not ready to deal with my father,” he finally admits. “I don’t know if I can yet.”

“You can,” says Nick, his tone firm yet encouraging “Maybe not today but you can and you will.)

 

The letter arrives on a Wednesday, his one hundredth and ninety eighth day of sobriety.

Schneider stares at it, recognizing his father’s company name in the return address field. He’s in the middle of his apartment, his other mail fluttering to the floor around him as he stands there motionless, trying to figure out what to do next.

His father has not contacted him in over six months. Not since the day that Schneider had, for the first time in his life, stood up to him and his domineering ways. Schneider thought he was doing better but now, staring at the envelope in his hands, knowing that it came from Father’s office makes him queasy, uncomfortable and underneath it all, scared.

He suddenly feels like he’s five years old again, unwanted and unloved.

His stomach tight he opens the envelope. He pulls out a few pieces of typed paper and scans them quickly realizing first, that it has to do with some personal business holdings of his and second that it wasn’t even sent by his father, it was sent by his father’s secretary. Schneider can tell by the stamped signature at the bottom of the last page, she always stamps the documents that his father doesn’t actually need to sign.

Or documents that he doesn’t _want_ to sign.

Legs shaky, Schneider sits down at his desk. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, suddenly weary. He puts his glasses back on and looks back over at the paperwork, realizing that he needs to respond to it.

Eventually, he thinks. But not tonight. He is not going to let his father ruin the rest of his day. _I got this_ , he tells himself. _I got this_. Schneider forces himself to get up and go to the kitchen, intent on making himself a late dinner (he has spent the last three hours watching _NCIS: LA_ with the McGurb’s while he replaced the batteries in all their smoke detectors). He gets as far as grabbing a skillet and setting it on the stove before he turns to the fridge and realizes he’s not hungry anymore. Not even a little.

Suddenly his apartment is too quiet, too still. He can sense the papers sitting on his desk, taunting him. He feels the negative voices in his head start to chirp up again. He remembers Nick’s words - _times of stress makes us more vulnerable to slipping_ and he knows he needs support. He reaches into his pocket, past his six month sobriety chip and pulls out his phone. His thumb hovers over Avery’s name but he doesn’t want to bother her. Not with this. Instead he calls Penelope and something in his voice must have given his mood away because no sooner does he hang up with her then he hears her footsteps outside.

“What’s wrong?” she says as she lets herself in. She scans him quickly, her gaze worried. “What happened?”

He gestures to his desk and watches as Penelope walks over and scans the papers, her mouth hardening into a thin line as she reads. She looks up, her face softening at the expression on his face.

“Okay,” she says walking over to him and grabbing his clenched fists. Schneider hadn’t even realized he had clenched them; he forces himself to exhale and focus on Penelope. She leads them over to the sofa and they sit down. “Is this the first time you’ve heard from-?”

“ _Mmhmm_.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” she says, patiently. Her voice is calm, steady. “We don’t have to talk. That is okay, Schneider. I am always here to talk or not to talk. You know that.’

“I do,” he says and suddenly to his horror, he can feel tears start to form in his eyes. He blinks furiously, trying to stop them but they have a mind of their own. A few escape and start to roll down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey.” Penelope’s voice suddenly drops into a whisper as she scoots closer to him, reaching up to cup his face with the palms of her hands. She wipes the tears with the pad of her thumbs and leaves her hands there, resting on either side as she stares at him; her gaze equal parts tender and concerned. He looks at her through foggy glasses.

“I’m—”

Schneider breaks off, a lump forming in his throat. He starts again. “I thought I was over it, you know? I was determined not to let him affect me anymore. But he still does.”

“I know,” she says. “I know. But he’s your dad, Schneider. I mean he totally sucks, don’t get me wrong. He’s like, _the worst_.”

Schneider smiles at her ferocious tone as Penelope continues, her touch leaving his face as she reaches down to his hands laying loosely on his lap. She squeezes his fingertips, keeps her gaze steady on his. “But he’s still your dad and somewhere down you are still that little boy who just wants to impress him and that’s why this gets to you so much.”

“I wish I wasn’t. I wish I didn’t care.”

“No Schneider, no.” Her face is inches away from him. He can see the gold flecks in her brown eyes as she stares at him intently, shaking her head. “Your capacity to love others, even someone as shitty as your dad, is one of my favorite things about you. Don’t ever, for one second, try and change that part of yourself.”

“'Kay,” he says.

“'Kay,” She echoes back at him. After a moment she scoots closer to him and nestles her head on his chest, as if with her presence she can give him all the strength he needs.

They sit like that for awhile and Schneider can feel his body eventually start to relax. His heart rate settles back down to normal as he breathes in the scent of Penelope’s shampoo, lavender and hibiscus. Her hands are still clasped around his, her thumb doing small circles on his wrist as the minutes tick on and it's mesmerizing. He feels, for the first time in a very long time, completely safe and protected.

“You want to crash at our place tonight?” she asks into his t-shirt five minutes after Schneider has given into temptation and closed his eyes. Schneider nods and then realizes she can’t see it. “Yes please,” he says.

She waits in the living room as he quickly changes into pajama bottoms, throws on his robe and grabs a fresh pair of socks. As they walk down the stairs to the fourth floor Penelope muses aloud. “I bet you five bucks Mami is still up, waiting for us.”

Sure enough when they open the door to the apartment Lydia is awake, sitting on the couch. The only lights on are the ones from her room and the kitchen. She nods at the two of them and then gestures to the chair. “I already grabbed the extra sheets and pillows for you to use.”

“Thanks Mami,” says Penelope as she walks past her towards the kitchen. Lydia stands up and looks at Schneider. She opens her arms, wide. He stumbles forward and falls into them, his tall frame engulfing the tiny woman. He squeezes her gently.

“Thank you, Lydia,” he says, pulling back.

“Of course. And Schneider,” she leans in towards him and whispers, “I still have my machete in my room. Any _demonios_ visit you tonight you come and get me. I will take care of them.”

She makes slashing motions with her hands just as Penelope comes out of the kitchen carrying a glass of water. “ _Ay_ , Mami,” she groans. “There will be no violence here tonight.”

Lydia makes a face at Schneider. “We shall see,” she says. She presses her hand to Schneider’s shoulder and gestures for him to bend down. He leans down and she presses a kiss to his cheek. A soft, comforting feeling fills his soul at the unexpected motherly gesture. “ _Buenas noches, mijo_ ,” she says to him. “You too, Lupita,” she adds, nodding to her daughter before disappearing back behind her curtain. A moment later her light goes out.

“She’s crazy,” remarks Penelope fondly as she hands Schneider the glass of water. She grabs the blankets and starts making up the sofa.

“I got it, Pen.” Schneider sets the water on the coffee table and takes the blankets from her. “It’s late,” he says softly, noticing the time from the wall clock. “Go to bed, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She nods and heads back into the kitchen as Schneider sets the blankets on the sofa and sits down. He puts the pillows on the arm behind him and haphazardly throws the blankets over his body. He has just lain down and taken off his glasses when Penelope comes back out, the dim light from the kitchen laminating the blur that is her face. _She’s beautiful_ , is the thought that enters Schneider’s mind as he looks at his friend. _From the inside out_.

“You alright if I turn the kitchen light off?”

“Yes, thanks.”

She turns the light off, the living room now only briefly lit from the streetlights outside. “’Night Schneider,” she says as she heads down the hall towards her bedroom.

“Goodnight Penelope.” He says. Then adds, “Hey wait,”

She pokes her head around the corner, looks at him quizzically.

“Me still caring so much about my father, do you think it makes me weak?”

Her response is swift and leaves him feeling instantly relieved. “No, it makes you human.”

Schneider thought he would be awake for hours, mulling over things but he is surprised by the fact that he must have fallen asleep at soon as his head hit the pillow because the next thing he knows he’s waking up to the smell of _cafecito_ wafting through the apartment and two blurry shapes staring over the sofa at him. He shakes his head, reaches behind him for his glasses and puts them on. The shapes transform themselves into Alex and Elena, both already dressed in their school uniforms.

“Oh.” Schneider sits up, running a hand over his messy hair. He looks at the two teenagers. “Good morning.”

“Did you sleep here last night?” asks Elena.

“ _Sí_ ,” replies Lydia from the kitchen where she is cooking breakfast. “He had a hard night and needed his _familia_.”

“Are you okay?” asks Alex.

“Yeah, man. I’m good.”

Alex continues to stare at him and then suddenly, his gaze turns accusatory. “Were you drinking last night?”

_“Papito!”_

_“Alex!”_

It feels like someone had unexpectedly given him a swift kick in the stomach. “Alex,” Schneider grimaces and moves the blankets from the sofa, piling them into his lap. “Come here,” he says gesturing to the cleared space.

Alex walks around the sofa and sits next to him, his gaze still suspicious. Schneider looks at him. “No, I did not drink last night. I promise.”

Alex looks him up and down slowly, his brow furrowed. He even leans forward and sniffs the air around Schneider, checking. Leaning back he nods, satisfied. “You didn’t drink,” he says. “Your eyes are still kind.”

Schneider closes his eyes and winces. Another much deserved punch to the gut. “I’m sorry Alex,” he says, the image of his startled face in the laundry room flashing through Schneider's mind. “I don’t blame you for asking, not at all. I had a hard time last night and part of me was tempted to drink but I called your mom and she helped me through it.”

“Yes because that is what we do in this family,” interjects Penelope from her spot directly behind them, her arms wrapped around Elena’s shoulders, her eyes caring as she looks at her son. “We lean on each other for support, for encouragement. It is what Schneider did and what I hope you two will do if you are ever in a situation that feels too much for you to handle alone.”

Schneider nods in agreement. “Alex.” He directs his gaze to the teenager. “You have my permission to ask me everyday for the rest of my life if I have been drinking. I will always answer you honestly.’

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Spit shake?” asks Alex and Schneider is suddenly reminded of the little boy he used to be - small, skinny and wearing his baseball uniform everywhere he went.

“Absolutely,” responds Schneider. He spits into his hand, watches as Alex does the same and then they handshake. They grin at each other immediately afterwards, the strained tension between them now broken.

“You can’t go back on your word now, spit shake is for _liiiiife,_ ” sings-songs Alex.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“ _Ew_ ,” says Elena. She makes a disgusted face and then looks at her mom. “I will never understand boys.”

 

 

The next evening Avery comes over for dinner and Schneider tells her everything that happened – the unexpected letter from his father’s office, him staying over at the Alvarez’s and Alex’s (understandable) accusation. He doesn’t notice the hurt expression on Avery’s face until he stops talking.

“So last night you got a letter from your father and you called Penelope?”

“Yes.”

“Not me?”

“No but Avery –“ Words get caught in Schneider’s throat. He sets the plate of food down on the counter and walks over to her sitting in the chair. “I didn’t…”

She stops him. “It’s always going to be Penelope, isn’t it?”

“No. That’s not true.”

“She is who you go to for comfort and support, not me.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just-“

“She’s your person, Schneider.” Avery’s eyes are fast filling up behind her glasses. “You haven’t, and I don’t think you ever will, make room for me in your life like you have for Penelope and her family.”

Schneider tries to protest, tries to say something, anything but he can’t. Because the truth hits him in that moment - _Avery’s absolutely right._

He didn’t want Avery last night; he wanted Penelope’s support, comfort and understanding. He wanted his best friend, not his girlfriend during his crisis. And the knowledge that he just accidentally caused Avery incredible pain with that reveal almost brings him to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Schneider responds back to her, his own eyes now filling up with tears. “I am so sorry Avery.”

“I know,” Avery takes a shaky breath and stands up, her face pale and blotchy. “I know. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your second choice.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am.” She comes to stand in front of him, her eyes full of sadness and hurt.  “Can I see your phone?”

“What?” Schneider is now one hundred percent completely confused.

“Can I see your phone please? Could you unlock it for me?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He unlocks it, hands it to Avery and watches as she scrolls a bit and then types out something. After about the longest minute of his life she hands his phone back to him saying, “I just let Nick know we broke up. He’ll be here in twenty.”

“Avery.” Her name falls out of his mouth like a plea.

She leans forward and presses a brief kiss to his cheek. He closes his eyes as she does, soaking it in. “Bye Schneider,” she says softly before grabbing her purse. She doesn’t look back at him as she walks out his door.

When Nick shows up thirty minutes later (stupid LA traffic) he finds Schneider frozen in almost the same exact spot Avery left him in.

 

oOo

 

Schneider tells Lydia about the breakup the next afternoon when he visits her for his daily _café con leche_. “Oh, _Eschneider_ ,” she says softly. She claps her hands together and looks at him, the ultimate picture of loveliness and grace. “What do you need me to do? Kill her?”

He barks out a small laugh. “No, Lydia, no.” He closes his eyes and pinches the skin on his forehead; he can feel a headache coming on. “Can you tell everyone else for me? I really don’t want to.”

“Of course,” she says and she’s fast because fifteen minutes after Elena and Alex get home from school later that day they are knocking at his apartment door loaded up with junk food and superhero movies. Syd joins them an hour later and gives Schneider one of the biggest hug he has ever gotten in his life.

“I’m here for you,” Syd says. “We all are.”

And they mean it because by the time it’s six-thirty the entire Alvarez family is in his apartment having dinner with him along with Dr. Berkowitz and Syd.

“Are you okay?” asks Penelope, putting her hand on his shoulder as she leans around him to grab another slice of pizza.

“No,” Schneider says, honestly. But he reaches up and lays his fingers on her wrist, stilling her worried face. “But I will be. I’ve got my family with me.”

“You do.”

She presses a soft kiss to the top of his head before heading back over to her seat and at the gesture, his stomach suddenly does an unexpected downward plunge.

 

oOo

 

“I messed up,” Schneider tells his men’s group the next Friday he sees them. “I leaned on my friend for emotional support and not my girlfriend. I hurt her, deeply.”

He looks at the other men, finds comfort in their encouraging nods. He continues, “I have to hold myself accountable for my own actions and my treatment of others. I owe my ex an apology.”

Schneider figures Avery probably doesn’t want to see him right now (and he doesn’t blame her) so he writes her a letter apologizing using her favorite ink. He doesn’t ask for forgiveness, he doesn’t ask to be taken back - he merely acknowledges his mistakes and wrongdoings in the relationship and mails it to her house.

And then he sits and thinks.

 

 

“Nick, do you think I like Penelope as more than a friend?” Schneider asks him a few weeks later.

Nick is silent for a moment and then he looks at Schneider, thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Pat. But it’s not important what I think. What’s important is what do _you_ think? What do you _feel_?”

“I don’t know. Avery seemed to think I did.”

“Was she right?”

Schneider doesn’t respond. Nick leaves shortly after that and Schneider just sits there on his sofa, thinking over everything. He thinks about the last few years, he thinks about these last six months in particular. He thinks about his life with Avery and his life without her – which by the way, really sucks. Breakups are the worst. He tries to imagine a life without his BFF – without seeing Penelope daily, without texting her, without her laugh or her hugs or her soft touches or even her rolling her eyes at him in annoyance. He tries to imagine a life without Penelope in it and realizes he just can’t – he just can't. His world would be devoid of color, humor and everything else that Penelope adds to it. Suddenly, it hits him, the complete and utter truth.

He’s in love with Penelope.

He's in love with Penelope Alvarez.

He’s in love with his best friend.

 

 

_Oh shit._

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next word Schneider thinks of upon realizing he is in love with his best friend is no.

No. No. No.

He cannot do this. He cannot _feel_ this.

He can't, he can't, he can't.

 

 

(Translation: he won't, he won't, he won't)

 

 

Penelope’s friendship is an incredible gift, a soft place for him to land -one of the few soft places he truly has left in his life. It's also one of the only relationships that he hasn't destroyed directly or indirectly -whether with his addictions or his sobriety or his constant need for validation. Penelope Alvarez is his best friend, his confidante and he needs her to remain that.

She’s also his family. Or as close to family as he will ever get in this lifetime. And Schneider refuses to let anything mess that up. Because if he loses Penelope then that means he also loses Lydia, Elena and Alex and though he’s recently discovered that he’s a much stronger man than he’s ever given himself credit for, he’s not _that_ strong.

Because the truth is, Schneider has always needed the Alvarez family just a little more than they've ever needed him.

So he'll push his non-platonic feelings for his best friend down. He has to. He has no other choice.

 

oOo

 

The problem with deciding to ignore feelings however, is that the more intently they are ignored the more intently they tend to intensify.

“Schneider…. you are staring at me.”

“What?” Schneider hastily turns back towards the television, ignoring Penelope sitting cross-legged at his feet, cutting coupons at the coffee table. Across the room at the kitchen table Lydia and Dr. Berkowitz are playing a game of dominoes. “No, I’m not.”

" _Huh huh_.” There is a pause as Penelope finishes cutting out a coupon for an eighteen-count cartoon of eggs for $2.99 and then she says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about,” Schneider yelps, his voice getting high pitched.

“Schneider…”

Schneider knows he needs to quickly divert her attention before she starts prodding at him more. He decides to ask her something that has been on his mind lately. “Hey Pen, do you drink anymore?”

That catches her off guard. Penelope stops her coupon cutting and stares up at him, craning her neck to see him more easily. “What?”

“Do. You. Drink. Anymore?” he asks, enunciating each word slowly.

She sets her scissors down and shakes her head. “Not really.”

Instantly he feels a pang of guilt. “Because of me?”

“Well yeah. No Schneider, don’t make that face.” Schneider forces himself to relax his facial muscles but he can still feel his body tensing at yet another thing he has messed up for her. “Look, I only drink when I go out with the girls and even then that isn’t much."

“I’m sorry, Pen.”

“Sorry?” she scoffs at him. “For what?”

“For taking away something you loved.”

“Schneider.” She groans in exasperation and forces herself to rise, getting to her feet and flopping down on the empty seat next to him. She lays a hand on his leg, her touch a soothing balm. “I never loved drinking, that was _you_.”

“Oh right.”

“I like drinking but I don’t need to drink. In fact with my medications I probably shouldn’t be drinking at all. It was easy to throw everything out.”

“You threw it all out?” Schneider’s eyes grow wide as his heart starts to _flipflopflip_ in his chest.

Penelope nods. “Yup, on day one. Mami and the kids cleared everything out when we were at your meeting. Mami even threw out all her bottles of rum.”

“She did?” Schneider stares at Lydia in pure shock. “You did?” he hollers over to her. “But you love that stuff, you say you were weaned on it.”

“ _Ay_ , I was,” responds Lydia. “It has made me into the gorgeous woman that I am today. But alas, it is different now _Eschneider_. You cannot have it around. So _adiós_.”

“I have no alcohol at my house,” remarks Dr. Berkowitz unprompted as he sets down a tile.

“Oh, Leslie,” says Lydia, sweetly. “No one goes to your house.”

He nods, sadly. “It’s true. Also my therapist told me I shouldn’t drink alone and well, I am always alone.”

“See?” Penelope draws Schneider’s attention back to her (not that it was ever fully gone). “You are here more often then the four people that _actually_ live here. We didn’t want you to slip again so we decided not to have any alcohol around, at all.”

“Penelope… I don’t know what to say.”

She smiles widely; her smile lighting up her entire face and Schneider is struck, not for the first time, by what an amazing person she is. And how grateful he is to be part of her world. “I told you already. We got you Schneider, we got you. We are all in this together, yeah?”

He barely manages to nod at her. If he wasn’t already in love with Penelope, this would be the moment that he would have fallen for her, wholly and without reservations. Instead he could just feel the Penelope-shaped indentation on his heart grow even permanent.

 

 

He really is officially screwed.

oOo

 

The phone call comes at 11:15am on a Wednesday in February, his two hundred and fifty second day of sobriety.

“Mr. Schneider?” says an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line. “We have an Alejandro Alvarez in the nurse's office right now. He is throwing up.”

“Oh my God!” exclaims Schneider.

“No reason to bring God into this,” the monotone voice on the phone says dryly before continuing. “We have been unable to reach his mother and you are next on his emergency contact list. Are you available to come get him?”

“Absolutely,” promises Schneider, shoving his feet into his sandals and grabbing his keys. “On my way.”

He sends Penelope a text before he gets into his car, letting her know he's getting Alex. He knows the reason she’s not answering her phone is because she’s at an all-day Nurse Practitioner training in Pasadena. Lydia is at her sister’s house in Pico Rivera visiting the latest addition to the Riera family, a little great-grandnephew. Penelope's response does not come until after he's picked up Alex, had him lie down in the backseat of his car with towels and a bucket to barf in and driven back home 10 miles under the speed limit because the potholes in the streets of Los Angeles are currently _horrific_ from all the February rain and Alex moans every time they go over one.

“Sorry man,” Schneider says, watching Alex in the rear-view mirror as he hits another bump.

“S'okay,” mutters Alex holding his stomach, his eyes closed and his face unnaturally pale.

Schneider gets him into the apartment, into his room and hydrated with Gatorade (orange, Alex's favorite flavor) before Penelope finally calls him back.

“How is my baby?” demands Penelope when Schneider answers the phone.

“Well hello to you too, sweetie,” says Schneider, teasingly.

“Schneider, I swear to-”

“Chill, girl.” He tucks the phone under his chin as he stirs the pot of soup on the stove. “Alex is fine. He's currently lying down in his room trying to sleep. He said he threw up all of breakfast and his dinner from last night so I don't think he'll throw up anymore. I took his temp and its 101.1 but he's currently chilly so I put two blankets on him.”

“Did he vomit up blood?”

“No.”

“Is he dizzy?”

“No.”

“Does he have any bruising or spots anywhere on him?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Does he have pain anywhere other than his stomach?”

“Nope. Alex said and I quote, ‘chucking everything up made me feel a lot better’. He’s just feeling extremely tired so he's sleeping.”

“It sounds like it's probably just the flu then.” Penelope's voice suddenly sounds small and worried over the line and Schneider's instinct to soothe her immediately kicks in.

“I think so too. According to my baseball parent group chat, half the team's down with the flu. Alex is the third one this week.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He's okay, Pen. I swear on my life. If you want I can take a picture of him for you but honestly he just needs to rest and re-hydrate himself. I know the drill. This is not the first time I've taken care of a vomiting, sleepy individual - though in the past that was usually due to too much vodka, rum or tequila, not the stomach flu.”

She laughs and the sound makes him smile. It’s been his opinion for a long time that Penelope has the best laugh of any person he knows. “Okay, well, make sure you give him Vicks VapoRub. And have him keep his socks on so his feet don’t get cold. And can you reheat some _sopa de fideo to_ have ready for him when he wakes up? He loves it and Mami always keeps a spare container in the fridge.

“ _Pen_ ,” Schneider is appalled. “What kind of Cuban mother do you think I am? I already had him put Vicks on his chest, he's in his thickest pair of socks and I am heating up _sopa de fideo_ on the stove as we speak. I got this.”

Her tone turns apologetic. “You do, I know you do. I’m sorry Schneider. Look, this training ends at five and then I will bust my _nalgas_ to get back home. If Alex’s symptoms get worse or he starts vomiting blood, call Dr. Berkowitz and have him stop by or just take Alex to Urgent Care. Did you let Mami know Alex is sick?”

“Nah. Alex needs his sleep more than he needs Lydia fussing over him right now. Plus if it is the flu Lydia doesn't need to catch it and also I don't want to pull her away from her sisters. Right now they are all getting along but you know-” Schneider clicks his tongue and Penelope laughs for a second time, the sound once again bathing him in soothing warmth.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “They'll be each other's throats soon enough. Okay well I'll let you face the wrath that is my mother once she realizes you kept her from her beloved, sick Papito.” Suddenly there are noises in the background and Schneider waits while Penelope covers the phone. After a moment she comes back at the line, her voice rushed. “Schneider, I got to go. Training is starting up again. I can't have my phone on me but I'll sneak out every half an hour to check it. Text me if there are any changes with Alex.”

“Of course,” says Schneider. “Promise.”

“Thank you again for taking care of him, Schneider,” Penelope says before hanging up. “Other than Mami, you are the only other person I trust.”

 _You are only other person I trust_. A bright glow infuses Schneider. He feels positively giddy from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. He thinks of Father, never trusting with his favorite briefcase or suit let alone anything else. He thinks of days spent in rehabs and sobriety houses, where everything was regulated and scheduled and he wasn’t allowed to be in charge of anything, not even himself. And now Penelope, the most amazing mother he knows, trusts him enough to take care of her kid when she can’t. He feels tears prickle his eyes but he fights them back. No time to get sappy. He’s got a sleeping teenager to force-feed soup.

When Penelope gets home later that night she gives Schneider a super long hug and he leans into it, her presence soothing him in a way no one else’s does.

“Thank you, Schneider,” she says, releasing him.

“All in a co-parent’s day of work,” he responds, grinning. Penelope groans loudly but doesn’t contradict him and Schneider counts that as a small victory.

“Hey Pen?” he says a few minutes later as he is getting ready to leave.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t take my name off the kids emergency contact list.”

“No.”

His throat is suddenly dry. “Did you think about it though…after last May?”

There is a long pause as she stares at him. Then Penelope shakes her head, her next words landing straight on his heart and totally disarming him. “No.”

Schneider walks out of their apartment with a big, joyful grin lighting up his entire face. He feels invincible, like he can conquer anything.

 

 

 

He tells the men at his Friday group. How Alex was sick and _Schneider_ was the one that was called, _he_ was the one that was needed, _he_ was the one that was able to be a help and not a burden to the people he cared about the most. He is almost 9 months sober and the pride in his voice when he describes to the group how Penelope continued to keep him listed as an emergency contact at Elena and Alex’s school is unmistakable.

“Thank you for sharing, Pat,” says John, nodding at Schneider as he sits down. “Addiction can bring out the worst kind of ugliness in people but it’s not permanent. As Pat has just demonstrated to us, our past decisions and behavior don’t have to define us forever. We are more than the sum of our mistakes.”

After the meeting has ended a young man in his late twenties approaches Schneider. His hands are slightly unsteady and his eyes are red rimmed but clear. He had spoken earlier in the evening and Schneider recalls that his name is Viet and he is on day three. “Thanks, man,” he says to Schneider.

“For what?”

“For hope. That maybe I won’t be in this place forever.”

“You won’t,” promises Schneider. “Is this your first meeting?”

“Yes and no.” Viet shrugs, his eyes filled with an emotion Schneider recognizes well - shame. “It’s my first time here but this is my third attempt at sobriety. I just can’t seem to get past the first few months before slipping.”

“I understand,” says Schneider. “Alcohol is a trap. I have been in your shoes before, it’s not easy but you _can_ conquer this.” He pauses and looks at Viet, recognizing a bit of himself in the younger man.

“You free now? You want to go grab a bite to eat and chat?”

Viet nods, grateful. “Sure.”

By the end of the evening Schneider has agreed to be Viet’s sponsor. He gives Viet his phone number and instructs him to call or text anytime, day or night. Remembering Nick’s words to him many months ago Schneider also makes sure to tell Viet to call him before he reaches for a drink, not after.

And for the second time that week Schneider arrives at his apartment joyful and grateful that he is able to help others. That he _can_ help others, that's he's in a position where he has the ability to do so unencumbered of alcohol or drugs. The shackles of addiction have never felt so far away from him as they do in this moment.

He feels at peace.

oOo

 

Ivy Day happens and Elena doesn't get into Yale.

She gets into Cornell, Dartmouth and the University of Pennsylvania but Schneider realizes quickly that those schools are _not_ _Yale_.

“ _Ay pobrecito mija_ ,” croons Lydia from her place on the couch next to Elena who is currently sobbing onto Penelope’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“It is not okay,” Elena chokes out through her tears. “I didn’t get into Yale. I am a failure.”

“You are not a failure,” says Penelope sternly as she brushes a soft kiss to Elena’s forehead and rubs her back. “Lots of people didn’t get into their first choice schools, it happens _n iña_.”

“Yeah, Elena,” offers Schneider helpfully from his seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t make the team for Unicycle Hockey back in my youth and I turned out pretty okay. Minus the drugs, alcohol and gambling addictions. Huh….” his voice trails off as he ponders.

“And I didn’t make the first round of JV baseball but now look at me, first string!” says Alex proudly.

Elena stops crying long enough to glare at the two of them. “What are you trying to say, that you want me to go into _sports_?” she half yells, half sobs.

“No baby, no”, soothes Penelope. “They are just trying to make you feel better. _Some_ of them are doing a better job of it than others though,” she adds, looking significantly at Schneider. He shrugs, apologetic.

“Well it’s not working.”

“Would ice cream help?” asks Alex. “Or Cheetos? Or chocolate? Or those cookies with the coconut bits in them that you like so much?”

There is a pause and then - “Cheetos sound okay,” mumbles Elena into Penelope’s shoulders. She turns sideways, opens one eye and looks directly at her brother. “And maybe a roll of frozen cookie dough too.”

“On it,” say Schneider and Alex simultaneously. They stand up from their seats together and Schneider nods his head. “Alex and I will make a run to the store to gather DTF supplies and then we’ll be right back.”

“DTF?” asks Penelope, her forehead creasing in confusion.

“Down to Forget,” replies Lydia exasperatedly at her daughter. She looks at Schneider in solidarity and raises her hands in the universal ‘ _I try’_ plea. “ _Everybody_ knows this.”

“It’s true,” Schneider nods his head, trying not to smile at Lydia as he looks at Elena and Penelope. “And today will be the best DTF party, I promise.”

Penelope shakes her head but her lips twitch up fondly. And she doesn’t say a word when Schneider and Alex come back forty-five minutes later, their arms laden down with enough ice cream, chips, cookies, soda and other treats to feed twenty people. Syd has arrived by then and is helping to console Elena.

“Thanks Schneider,” Penelope says, briefly squeezing his arm as they unload the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

“Is Elena going to be okay?” he asks, pitching his voice low so it doesn’t carry into the living room.

Penelope looks over her shoulder to where Elena is now cuddled up on the sofa, Syd on one side of her and Lydia on the other. Alex is standing behind the couch, showing them all pictures of kittens dressed up as Princess Leia on his phone. Penelope looks back at Schneider and nods. “She'll be fine. She just needs some time to process and grieve. You know our Elena, she makes plans and charts and lists for the future. This is an outcome she was not expecting. It will take her some time to re-adjust but she will survive.”

Schneider's stomach flips at the words - _our Elena_ and he nods. “Well I’m here for her, if she needs anything.”

There is deep fondness reflecting in the depths of Penelope’s eyes and it makes him suddenly look away, heart hammering hard in his chest. Schneider is afraid of what his own eyes reflect back at her. “We know you are, Schneider. We know.”

 

 

 

(“Do you plan to tell Penelope how you feel?” Nick asks Schneider the next weekend when they are having lunch together.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” says Schneider with a harsh laugh, his hand tight around his glass of water. “She deserves better than someone who is always one drink away from falling off the wagon.”

“Pat,” Nick’s voice is patient. “Did you drink today?”

“No.”

“Do you plan on drinking today?”

“No.”

“Then start there. Your sobriety does not limit your relationships or your ability to be loved. We are all flawed in different ways and it’s okay to love someone when you feel flawed. None of us are perfect. Not even Penelope.”

“I know she’s not perfect it’s just….” Schneider looks directly at Nick, his gaze intent. He wants to be clear on what he says next, he needs Nick to understand. He needs someone to _understand_. “Her friendship means everything to me. I can’t let anything, _anything_ , threaten that.’

“Maybe this won’t,” suggests Nick. “Maybe she feels the same way.”

Schneider scoffs, the sound bitter in the warm afternoon air. “Yeah right. Plus she's already gone through this with Victor. She’s already loved an addict _and_ lost. I won’t do that to her again.”

“Pat-”

“No. What kind of friend would I be then? Huh, Nick?” Schneider looks away, his heart heavy but his conscience clear. “I refuse to be the reason she is back in her nightmare. I’ve already done that once to her last May. I won’t do it again.”)

 

oOo

 

It’s the first week of April when Schneider and Penelope get into a fight about money.

It starts off innocently enough. It’s a Wednesday evening and Penelope and Schneider are in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. The kids are in their rooms, and Lydia is in living room on the phone with one of her cousins. Penelope is complaining to Schneider about Elena’s different college aid packages, how they are still waiting to hear back from both Dartmouth and UC Berkeley’s financial aid office about Elena’s final financial aid packages. Penelope is just remarking about how hard this whole process is (“I was in Afghanistan and _this_ is making me break out into a cold sweat!”) when Schneider says, offhandedly - “I’ll pay for it.”

Penelope pauses in her washing of a plate to gape at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” Schneider takes the plate from her and rinses the soap off. He grabs a towel and starts drying. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You’ll pay for what?”

“Whatever you and Victor can’t cover. Admission fees. Tuition. Books. Room and Board. T-shirts with the school’s mascot on them and cheesy slogans that Elena will absolutely hate like _College Student_ with the -ent crossed off or _Dangerously Overeducated._ ” He shrugs, nonchalantly. “I’ll pay.”

“You will not.” Penelope voice is so low that Schneider has to bend down to hear it as he sets the plate in the opened cupboard door. “She’s my daughter. I got this.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“But I will. This is my responsibility.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I have money, Pen. Lots of money. You know this. I can help.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, end of discussion. I will figure this out, I’m the mother. I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah you do. You just don’t want it.” Schneider can feel his temper starting to boil as the two of them stand there staring at each other, the pile of dirty dishes in the sink forgotten.

“No,” Penelope frowns at him, her voice rising. “I. Got. This. Elena is my daughter. Stuff like this is my responsibility.

“I know that. But I want to help.”

“Well I don’t want you to. Not like this.”

“Not like what?” Now Schneider’s voice has risen to match hers.

“Throwing your money around, like you’re some kind of Daddy Warbucks.”

“Jeez Penelope,” he spats out. “Last night I spent eight thousand dollars on a new race track for my seahorse farm. Believe me, I toss plenty of money around with or without your approval!”

“Well you don’t need to,” she bites back, annoyed. “Why does this matter so much?”

“Because she’s going to change the world!  That’s why!” Now Schneider is full on shouting. “That little girl of yours, with her intelligence, her no nonsense attitude, her unceasingly fight for every single marginalized or underrepresented persons or groups. The way she consistently challenges the status quo and makes people, including myself, re-think all their previously held assumptions. Elena is going to change the world one day, Penelope. And I just want to help her do that.” He runs his fingers through his beard, frustrated.

“But you don’t need to. I am her mother, this is my family. It is my responsibility. I will figure it out. You don’t need to throw your money around.”

“But I can help. This is investing in Elena’s future. And even if I was throwing my money around, who cares?”

“I do! It’s _your_ money. Your family’s money - Not ours.”

“ _Not ours_ \- so what I’m not family anymore?”

“No, that’s not-”

Schneider cuts her off. “Because that’s exactly what I heard you say - _Not our family’s money. This is my family, my responsibility.”_ He repeats back to her. “Crap, Pen,” he throws his hands up in the air, frustrated beyond belief. “You say I’m part of this family but when it comes down to it, I’m really not. I’m only a part of this family when it’s _convenient for you_!”

There is an abrupt silence in the kitchen as they both stand there staring at each other, the air around them charged with emotion.

Penelope makes the first move. “Schneider... that’s not true.” Her voice is soft and the look at her face is pleading but Schneider doesn’t care. He’s too upset right now. He feels like a child again, begging for any tiny scraps of affection the adults in his life decide to give him. He needs to get away and decompress before he says something he cannot take back.

Schneider shakes his head and backs up. “You know, I need to go. I can’t be here right now.”

He turns around and walks out the kitchen, barely registering the forms of Elena, Alex and Lydia as the three of them stand in the living room, their mouths open in shock as they watch Schneider leave. 

He marches upstairs to his apartment, Penelope’s words rattling over and over in his head – _myfamilymyfamilymyfamilymyfamily_. He feels angry, he feels upset, he feels pissed off but mostly, he feels resigned. Schneider knew, someplace down deep inside of him that this was eventually going to happen. It was inevitable, it always is with him. People always leave. Lydia considers him family –she’s told him that repeatedly and Alex and Elena have said it as well – Elena even told him she loved him once and that is the highest of praises from a girl who keeps her emotions extremely close to her chest in order not to be hurt. But Penelope? Penelope has never said those words to him, not once. She’s never told him he was family.

And damn if that realization doesn’t make Schneider’s heart start to ache in his chest.

 

 

 

The knock at his door comes sooner than he expected. He opens it to find Penelope looking up at him, biting her lower lip.

“Hey,” she says, hovering nervously in the doorway.

“Hey.”

She stands there for a moment before he gestures her wordlessly inside and shuts the door.

“So it’s been brought to my attention that I’m being a bit of an ass.”

Despite himself, Schneider almost chuckles. “They’re not wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Schneider,” Penelope says sincerely, looking at him through bright eyes. “I am really sorry for saying those things to you. I shouldn’t have.”

“But you did,” Schneider says, softly. His heart hurts. “It’s no biggie,” he lies, brushing past her to go sit on the sofa. He stares at his hands. “I’ll get over it.”

“No,” Penelope sits down next to him. “It’s not -Schneider.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m a single mother. I’m a soldier. I’m the commander in chief of _my_ house. I’m used to doing what needs to be done by myself for this family.”

Schneider waits as she closes her eyes briefly. When Penelope opens them again, they are swimming in tears and he is suddenly struck by the expression of vulnerability and honesty written on her face. “I say I got this because I do. It’s the only way I’ve survived the last few years without Victor. But sometimes I do need help. And when I do, I get that help from you.”

She reaches over and grabs his hands, her gaze purposeful. “ _Somos familia_.”

Schneider’s heart stutters to a stop as he looks at her, not quite sure he heard her correctly. “Huh?”

“ _Somos familia_ ,” repeats Penelope, her eyes never leaving his. Something warm swooshes low in his belly, his heart rate picks up again. “We are family. And I am sorry for every time I ever made you feel like you weren’t. You aren’t my blood Schneider but you are my heart.”

“Pen...”

She squeezes his hands and leans in closer until her forehead rests against his. Her next words are quiet, exhaled on a low breath against his cheek. “My heart, Schneider. I couldn’t get you out if I wanted to and I don’t want to. At all.”

There is blood rushing everywhere in his body. His legs are suddenly weak, his breathing is labored and Schneider cannot focus on anything else then this moment right here - Penelope leaning against him, telling him he is her heart, he is her family. He closes his eyes, feeling such an intense wave of love and longing for her overtake him that he needs to swallow hard before he says or does something he will later regret.

After a few minutes Penelope pulls back and Schneider feels the loss abruptly. He knows that was as close to a declaration of love from her as he is ever going to get. “I’m sorry,” Penelope says again. “Really, really sorry. Money is a touchy subject for me.”

“I’m sorry too,” says Schneider. He suddenly realizes they are still holding hands but he doesn’t let go. Neither does Penelope. “I didn’t mean to get so angry, it’s just-“ He pauses, trying to find the right words.

“Money isn’t a big deal to me. I’m sorry, Pen,” he says as Penelope opens her mouth and he cuts her off. “But it’s the truth and you know that.”

Penelope nods slowly as Schneider continues. “And if I can help Elena with college as a way to lessen the burden for you, for her, then I want to. I am not trying to buy her affection or yours or demand anything from anyone. I want to help and this is one of the few ways, actually probably the _only_ way, I can.”

“No, it’s not. You help in other ways.”

Before Schneider can ask her to explain, they are interrupted by a slow knock on his door. Both Penelope and Schneider turn in their seats to stare as his door creaks open slightly and then a tiny white flag emerges in the small opening, waving. It is followed by the rest of Lydia's arm and then her face. She peers at them and nods, satisfied. She then opens his door all the way, still waving the small white flag.

“All clear,” Lydia dramatically states, ushering Alex and Elena in behind her.

“Schneider!” Schneider and Penelope both release their hands and stand up as Elena walks over to the sofa, stopping before Schneider. Her eyes are wet and she looks so much like her mother that Schneider feels his throat close up. She gazes up at him. “Do you really think I can change the world?”

“Absolutely,” he replies immediately. “Without a doubt.”

She gives him a big hug. “Oh let him help Mami, please.”

“Yeah Mom,” agrees Alex. “Let him help Elena with school and me with my modeling career.”

“Your modeling career?” Penelope raises an eyebrow at her son as she wipes away the few remaining teardrops still on her face.

Alex strikes a theatrical pose while Lydia claps enthusiastically behind him. “I’m good but I’m not that good. I’ll need a little money to help get me started on my baller lifestyle.”

“The only thing ballin’ better be your feet on your way to a college degree,” Penelope says affectionately as she pats Alex’s cheek and looks at Schneider. She smiles, softy. “But if Schneider wants to help, who am I to stop him? We are a family, all of us and we help each other out, yes?”

“Yay,” cheer the teenagers as Lydia nods her head along in agreement.

“Thank you,” Schneider mouths over Elena’s head as Elena gives him another hug.

“Of course,” responds Penelope. Her eyes are still soft but Schneider knows it is because she is looking at Elena and not at him.

He doesn’t care though because his heart is full of love –for this woman standing in front of him, for her family, for _his_ family.

He knows the Alvarez’s are not his redemption arc, that they are not his saviors. He knows from countless rehab stints, meetings and therapy sessions that he alone is responsible for himself and his actions and he alone is the only one who can choose sobriety but he’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge all the help they have given him to get here.

He could give the Alvarez’s all the money he has in his various bank accounts and it wouldn’t even come close to repaying them back for what they have shown to him over the years – unconditional love, kindness, support, understanding, selflessness, strength and forgiveness. It’s like someone had one day without his knowledge split him wide open and carved his heart into four Alvarez family-shaped pieces that fit together perfectly inside of him.

This is love, he thinks looking at all of them. This is what it means to truly be part of a family.

 

oOo

 

Schneider gets his one-year chip on a sunny afternoon in late May, in a small room of a Korean church.

When Nick hands him his sobriety chip the entire room explodes.

“¡ _Dale_ , Schneidito, _Dale!_ ”

Lydia, Alex, Elena, Syd and Dr. Berkowitz have all risen from their seats, cheering loudly and off-pitch together. Alex and Syd are videoing with their phones; Lydia has a large banner with his face on it that Dr. Berkowitz is helping to hold. Penelope is standing next to Elena, clapping widely, the smile on her face on of the largest Schneider has ever seen. The men in the room, including John and Viet, have also risen out of their seats and are clapping loudly for him.

What a difference a year makes, thinks Schneider. He’s received one-year chips before but never like this - not with this much support, love and encouragement behind him. Never in room filled with people who have spent the last year pushing him to be the best possible version of the man they all knew he could be (again).

The voices in his head have been quiet for a while now. Schneider is not naïve enough to believe they are gone for good (he’s made progress in the last year but not _that_ much progress) but he also knows how to refute them with positive words and understanding when they do make a reappearance. His previous self-loathing and ugliness has given way to acceptance, grace and forgiveness towards the one who needed it the most- himself. As Schneider clutches his sobriety chip and walks over to be hugged by the six people in the world who love him unconditionally, he knows this is one of those moments that he will replay over and over again in his head.

Schneider thinks the day cannot possibly get any better but then they all return to the Alvarez’s apartment, the three teenagers running ahead as soon as the two cars are parked. Penelope reaches the apartment first and opens the front door, gesturing for Schneider to go before her. And for the second time that day a roar of people cheering loudly in a small room engulfs Schneider.

“Congratulations Schneider!

“Yay Schneider!”

“Who hoo!”

Schneider takes a step backwards and bumps into Penelope. He looks down; she is beaming at him, Lydia and Dr. Berkowitz smiling alongside her. “Did you-? All this-” He gestures to their living room which is currently filled with almost every tenant in the building, including Mr. Vo who only leaves his apartment on Sundays to go play chess against Mr. Roth. There are balloons, streamers, piles of foods and most importantly, all of his favorite people in one room, smiling and clapping at him.

Penelope nods. “They wanted to celebrate with you.” She touches the small of his back. “They love you.”

Schneider shakes his head, incredulous and then slowly enters the room. He is quickly surrounded by multiple tenants – no _family members -_ hugging him and telling him how proud they are of him and his one year of sobriety. It is overwhelming hearing so much praise, love and understanding and by the time he gets to Mama G sitting in her wheelchair as she tells her sister what a good man Schneider is and how he re-did her entire kitchen so she could maneuver around easier in her apartment after her diagnosis he is openly weeping.

And then Schneider spots Penelope across the room, sees her watching him with tears in her eyes and realizes he is not the only one overcome by emotions.

The party goes on for hours. The kitchen table, counters and coffee table are all straining under the weight of the large quantities of food and drinks the tenants have brought. People are spilling over into Lydia’s room, the hallway and the fire escape; little kids are running around playing tag and bumping into everyone, the teenagers have taken over Alex’s bedroom and are playing PlayStation. Somewhere in the midst of all the chaos Dr. Berkowitz finds Schneider standing alone in the living room and quietly hands him a small wooden box. It is hand crafted, very old and when Schneider opens the lid he sees the word ‘Berkowitz’ engraved into the bottom of the box.

“It was my father's,” says Dr. Berkowitz, softly. “Passed down from his father and from his father before him. I don’t have any sons so I wanted to pass it down to you.”

“A family heirloom?” Tears are once again filling Schneider eyes and when he looks up, Dr. Berkowitz’s eyes are wet as well. They both reach for each other at the same time, the box getting trapped between the two men as they hug.

“I'm proud of you son,” says Dr. Berkowotiz weepily into Schneider’s collar and Schneider feels his heart soar. This is what a real father should be like, he thinks. This is what a real father should say. There are no words Schneider can say in response to the gift he has just been given (and he doesn’t just mean the family heirloom) so he merely tightens his grip around the older man and takes a deep breath in.

A few minutes later Penelope finds Schneider in the kitchen, staring down at the box he has set on the counter. “How are you doing?”

Schneider looks at her, his heart still overwhelmed from his moment with the Doc. “Pen…all this?” He gestures around them. “It’s too much.”

“Nah,” she smiles. “You take care of everyone in this building. Today is our chance to take care of you.”

 She takes his hand and intertwines their fingers together and Schneider is struck by how natural it feels. How everything with Penelope feels natural -being with her, loving her is as natural to him as breathing. Around them the party continues but to Schneider it feels like his entire world has narrowed down to this two-foot space in the kitchen, Penelope holding his hand and looking at him in way he’s never seen her look at him before.

“Hey Schneider.”

“Yeah?”

“Your miracle happened.”

For the umpteenth time that day he feels his eyes start to fill up. “Thanks to you Pen,” Schneider says, straightening up and pulling her close to him, wrapping his arms around her body. He presses a kiss to Penelope’s head and rests his cheek against her soft curls. “I owe you everything.”

“No,” she says, firmly into his shirt. “You owe me nothing.”

“Well thanks for never giving up on me, Penelope. Not even once, not even a little.”

She pulls back slightly and looks up at him, her arms still around his waist. Her eyes are smeared with mascara from the tears she had been crying earlier, her hair is a little frizzed from where he rested his cheek on it and the lipstick she had on earlier in the day is long gone. She is still the most breathtaking, beautiful woman Schneider has ever seen. Her goodness, her care, her concern, her love for him – he deserves none of it and yet at the same time he wants all of it.

“Right back a’tcha, friend.”

He ignores the sharp stab of pain in his chest and smiles back. He needed that reminder that they are just friends, otherwise he would have done something stupid right now in this moment like try and kiss her.

And that would have ruined _everything_.

 

oOo

 

Schneider finds it difficult to see Penelope over the following week. Not because she’s done anything in particular, good or bad, but because it’s like his one year mark was some kind of unknown barrier in his head, a stop sign of sorts. And now that he has gone past it, it is like his brain has finally given him permission to feel and dream and _want_. Suddenly he can’t stop thinking about Penelope and wishing for more between them and then feeling guilty for wanting more because her friendship with him should be enough.

It _is_ enough. But still, he dreams.

He knows it’s not fair to Penelope, having these feelings that he can't seem to suppress whenever he is around her. So Schneider reverts back to an old coping mechanism -avoidance. It works well for a few days until a tiny, Penelope-sized tornado bursts into his apartment on Sunday afternoon, fuming.

“What the hell, Schneider?”

Schneider pauses in his ukulele playing and looks up, surprised. “Oh, hey Pen.”

“Don’t you _oh hey Pen_ me. What are you doing?!?”

“Playing the ukulele,” he offers, and then withers under her dark glare. “Or not.”

“You have been avoiding me,” she says, sitting down beside him as he sets the ukulele on the coffee table.

“No I haven’t. I just saw you this morning.”

“For like two seconds and then you had to run off to yoga. And yesterday you spent the whole day with Mami but then the minute I got home you left to go to your acupuncturist. And I know it’s just me you are avoiding because you went to Alex’s practice on Thursday night when I was working late and Elena already told me that you took her and Syd to the Broad on Friday after school. So I repeat –what the hell?”

Schneider doesn’t answer her back. Instead he fiddles with the rings on his hands, avoiding her gaze. “Schneider,” Penelope asks, her voice much quieter. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!”

“Then why is my best friend suddenly avoiding me?” Her voice is tinged with a mixture of sadness, worry and pain and that, more than anything else, is why Schneider responds. He never wants to be the cause of Penelope’s pain. Not today, not ever.

“Because,” he says, looking straight up at her, his expression solemn. “Your best friend is in love with you.”

“Oh,” she says. Surprise and shock and another emotion that’s he’s not quick enough to name flash across her face in rapid succession. _“Oh.”_

His heart is somewhere lodged in his throat, his stomach feels as if it has moved south to his knees and can’t seem to do anything else then stare at Penelope, watching her reaction. She stands up, she sits back down, and then she stands up again. Her mouth opens, then closes, and then opens again. She is no longer staring at him and instead is focused intently at a spot over his left shoulder. “Oh,” she repeats again, still gaping. “I need to, I need to-“

She doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead she turns around in a daze and walks out. She doesn’t even close the front door; she just keeps going, leaving it wide open behind her. Schneider watches her leave, a feeling of dread growing in the pit his stomach.

He knows he just lost his best friend.

 

 

 

The next few hours are excruciating and Schneider spends the majority of his time texting Nick about the situation. He’s can't go downstairs and he can’t really talk to anyone else, it’s ironic that Penelope would be the person he would usually turn to in this situation but can't now (for obvious reasons). Schneider is right in the middle of texting Nick (again) when he hears knocking on his door at around 10 o’clock that night and knows instinctively who it is.

“Hi,” Penelope says when he opens it. He is relieved to see that she is looking more like herself, albeit a bit nervous. He feels nervous too.

“Hi.”

“I figured since we seem to have our best conversations at night, why wait for the morning for this one?”

“Makes sense,” he says adjusting the belt of his robe tighter around his waist and gesturing her in. She walks over to the sofa and sits down, waits for him to join her before she speaks.

“So… you like me huh?”

“Yeah.”

She suddenly leans over and slugs him softly on the arm, a small grin on her face. “Well, were you ever going to freakin’ tell me or where you going to just keep it yourself?”

“Keep it to myself,” Schneider replies, smiling briefly, the pit of dread in his stomach temporarily easing. “I figured I'd try silent suffering for awhile, see how that fits me.”

“Unrequited love, yeah?”

“Yup.”

She gives a snort. “It's not a good look for you.”

“No, not really.”

There is long beat of silence and then Schneider sees rather then hears Penelope take a deep breath in. She looks at him, her eyes clear and luminous. His heart starts beating a little faster in his chest, unsure of what is going to happen next.

“Look, Schneider. You are my best friend.”

“And you're mine.”

“And I...you and me….” she exhales slowly, her eyes closing briefly before opening up again. “I don’t want that to change. I don’t want _us_ to change. Is it okay if we just stay friends?”

His response is swift. “Absolutely.”

She looks at him, her face utterly serious. “Can you do that?”

“Penelope.” Schneider reaches over and grabs her hands, relieved when she doesn’t pull away and instead closes her fingers around his. “If you're asking if I will have you in my life versus _not_ having you in my life, then yes absolutely. That is not even a question for me. We will stay friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise.”

She nods and he nods and all around them, the world keeps turning.

 

 

It strikes Schneider much later that night as he is lying in bed attempting to sleep that Penelope didn’t react negatively to his confession of love. She never said she didn't like him in that way, she never said she only thought of him as a friend. She didn't laugh or say _ew_ or gross or tell him he was _loco._ She didn’t call him her brother. She didn’t play any of the cards he had expected her to play.

If this had happened two, three, or four years ago she would have had no hesitation at straight up laughing at him and then telling everyone she knew about it so they could laugh with her. Heck, he _had_ been one of the people laughing along with her back then because him and Penelope? The two of them as a _couple_? That _was_ crazy. That _was_ funny.

But it’s not now. Not anymore.

And Penelope didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease him. She didn’t brush it off. Instead she simply told him that he was her best friend and she didn't want that to change.

Schneider lets that knowledge settle comfortably around him as he drifts off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Elena graduates high school on a Thursday evening in June, Schneider’s three hundred and eighty seventh day of sobriety.

Schneider cries. A lot.

“Schneider,” whispers Lydia, appalled. “Schneider, stop crying.”

“But I can’t help it,” sniffs Schneider from his seat next to Lydia. “Elena’s graduating.”

From the other side of Lydia Dr. Berkowitz blows his nose loudly, leaning around her to peer at Schneider, his eyes red. “We are...just so...happy,” exclaims Dr. Berkowitz, his voice breaking slightly as he dabs at his face with a handkerchief.

“Exactly,” wails Schneider, grabbing another tissue out of his shoulder bag and wiping his eyes.

“Please,” Alex pleads sitting two seats over from Schneider, between Penelope and Victor. His eyes dart nervously around the auditorium. “I still go to school here, I have a rep to maintain. Can you two at least wait until the ceremony _starts_ before crying?”

Schneider, Dr. Berkowitz and Lydia all look towards the empty stage where a teacher is currently testing the microphone for the graduation ceremony that will begin in twenty minutes. All around them families and friends are still walking into the auditorium and greeting each other as they search for seats.

“ _Ay_ Papito let them cry,” chides Penelope softly from her chair next to Schneider, placing her hand on Alex’s knee. “It’s okay. Schneider and Dr. B are just happy and excited. Your sister is graduating and going off to college to do big things and _ay dios mio_ my baby is never coming _home again_!”

Her voice cracks on the last two words as tears start to fill her eyes. Wordlessly, Dr. Berkowitz passes a clean handkerchief to Schneider who then hands it over to Penelope. A few chairs down on the other side of Victor, Nicole also begins to look weepy.

“Do you, um have an extra one?” she asks Dr. Berkowitz nervously, her hands folded together on top of her protruding stomach.

“I have a whole box,” he says proudly as he bends down below his chair to pull out another handkerchief, passing it down to the aisle to Nicole.

“Do you want one too, Lydia?” Dr. Berkowitz offers, kindly.

“No,” Lydia says haughtily. “I am not going to cry like _un bebé._ ”

Next to Schneider Penelope nudges him, rolling her watery eyes towards her mother and grinning. Schneider smiles back at her, amused. He too knows Lydia and thus is not surprised twenty minutes later, right as the graduates are starting to process down the aisle to hear Lydia lean over to Dr. Berkowitz and whisper in a low voice, “Leslie. _Un_ handkerchief, _por favor_.”

Schneider looks over to Penelope to comment but she is staring intently down the aisle and the rapturous expression on her face traps the words halfway up his throat. She grabs Schneider's arm, her grip surprisingly tight. “Look at Elena,” Penelope says, her voice husky with unshed tears. “She is glowing.”

Schneider searches the sea of graduates until he spots Elena in the middle. Penelope is right. Elena is absolutely _beaming_ in her cap and gown, a gigantic smile on her face. At that moment Elena catches Penelope’s eyes and the two Alvarez women smile even more widely at each other until Schneider feels his eyes start to well up again with overflowing emotions.

Penelope doesn't let go of his arm until all the graduates have walked in and the audience is asked to sit down.

 

 

Elena’s graduation party takes place on Saturday and similar to Schneider's one-year party from a few weeks back, the Alvarez apartment is crowded with people, music, food and lots of laughter.

Schneider is standing by the dessert table holding a bottle of water as he watches Tito challenge some of his and Penelope’s younger female cousins to a dance-off (Tito is currently winning) when Victor walks over to him, a curious expression on his face.

“‘So Schneider…..” Victor begins cautiously. “What’s going on with you and Lupe?”

Schneider’s body instantly goes on alert. Since That Night, as Schneider has been calling that evening in his head (and yes, it needs to be capitalized), neither Penelope or Schneider has mentioned it again. Whether by look or word or deed, Schneider has made a real effort not to treat Penelope as anything more than his friend. His best friend. And he thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping his feelings buried down deep but now, judging from the wry look on Victor’s face he must not have been doing as good a job as he imagined.

“What do you mean?” Schneider asks nervously, taking a large sip of water to steady himself.

“I saw the two of you at Elena's graduation, looking pretty close. So you and Lupe, yes?”

“Me and….no. No, no. What?” sputters Schneider, nearly spitting water all down the front of his shirt.

Victor grins, cockily. “You like her. A lot _._  I've seen your eyes, the way you look at her.”

“I have no control over my eyes, Victor. They are just in my face!”

Victor raises his hands in a peaceful stance, his grin easing slightly into a look of concern. “Relax, Schneider. It’s okay.”

Schneider stares at him, wary. Even though Victor is now happily remarried with a baby on the way, Schneider is still conscious of the fact that he and Penelope have a history together that can never be erased. That the two of them not only share two kids together, but they also once shared a life, a home, plans and dreams for the future. “It's okay?” Schneider repeats, hesitantly.

“Yeah. I mean, you like her as more than a friend, right?”

Schneider can’t lie. Not even to Victor. “Yes,” he admits truthfully, his voice so soft he’s not sure Victor can hear it in the crowded room. But Victor does hear it because he nods, staring thoughtfully at the taller man.

“Okay then,” he says and makes a move as if to walk away. But then Victor hesitates, his face growing serious and he moves closer to Schneider and lowers his voice.

“Look, I know after the way I've acted in the past I have no right to say anything to _anyone_ , especially you, and if Lupita or the kids heard me right now they all would be pretty pissed but I need to say this because she’s family. Lupe will always _be_ family.” He takes another step closer to Schneider, his expression hardening and it makes Schneider recall swiftly that Victor was once in the Army. “If you hurt her Schneider, even once, even on accident, I'll bury your body so deep underground they will need two bulldozers to excavate you.”

Schneider’s eyes widen and he laughs, weakly. “You are just kidding, right? Victor...Victor?”

Victor says nothing. He merely pulls away from Schneider, his face transforming back into his normal expression of warmth and friendliness as he clasps a hand on Schneider’s shoulder, winking playfully. “Good luck, friend,” he says breezily before turning and walking away, disappearing into a crowd of _tias_ by the couch _._  

Schneider is still breathing heavily a minute late when Dr. Berkowitz stops by the dessert table to scope out the offerings. Schneider looks to him for reassurance.

“Dr. B, do you ever find yourself terrified of people?”

“Oh all the time,” Dr. Berkowitz replies nonchalantly as he places a _pastelitos de guayaba_ on his plate. “I live in a state of constant fear.” He sighs, then frowns. “It's the only life I know.”

Schneider feels marginally better. But he keeps his distance from Victor for the rest of the evening, disappearing into the kitchen when he and Nicole say their goodbyes to the kids, Lydia and Penelope. He doesn’t want to have another conversation with him, doesn’t want to tempt fate. He was lucky that no one else had overheard him and Victor, that kind of _chisme_ would have been all over the apartment in ten minutes, tops.

It's late by the time the last of the guests leave. The minute the door closes behind the few remaining cousins, Penelope lets out a loud yawn and shakes her head.

“Go home, Schneider,” she scolds as he starts to pick up some of the empty plates and cups left lying around. “You have been here helping all day.”

“Yeah Schneider,” agrees Elena, wrapping her arms around Syd’s waist and leaning against them for support. “Mami’s right. It's late.”

“But I have a graduation present for you,” says Schneider, throwing the plates away and walking over to where Syd and Elena are standing. He pulls a small, wrapped gift from his pants pocket and presents it to Elena with a shy nod. He had been waiting to give it to her until after the party.

“Schneider,” Elena says reproachfully even as she takes the small box from him. “You already got me a present, the luggage set.”

Schneider shrugs. “Why should a graduate only get one present?”  

Syd and Penelope both peer over Elena’s shoulder as she carefully opens the wrapping. When she lifts the lid on the box, all three let out a simultaneous gasp. Then they stare inside, speechless.

Syd is the first one to speak. “Schneider,” they say, looking up at him with wide eyes. “It’s your one-day chip.”

Schneider nods, looking at Elena. She stares back at him, her face in shock. “It’s for you, for school.”

She says nothing and Schneider can feel a faint blush starting at the back of his neck as he hastens to explain.  “You are going to a new school with new people, new situations and new experiences. I know you will probably make all the right decisions but in case you don't I wanted to give you my one-day chip as a reminder that you can always start anew the next day. That you are never too far gone.”

Elena remains quiet, her gaze now directed on the small sobriety chip resting in the palm of her hand. Schneider shifts his feet nervously. “Do you, um, like it? I can give you a different present if you don't, Elena. I know that one is used and technically I didn't buy it… ”

Elena suddenly flies at him, burying her head in his stomach and cutting him off mid-sentence. “I love it, Schneider” she states enthusiastically.

“Yeah?”  he asks, his smile one of relief as he wraps an arm around her. Syd is beaming and Penelope is wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Absolutely,” Elena says, taking a step back and grinning widely. Her eyes are wet behind her glasses “It's going on my nightstand at school, right to the picture of the pope Abuelita gave me for protection.”

Schneider laughs. “Cool.”

Elena continues to examine the chip, holding it up to the light and turning it this way and that. “Thank you, Schneider,” she says, walking with Syd over to the kitchen to show Lydia and Alex.

“Anytime kid.”

Schneider can feel Penelope still staring at him. He darts a quick glance at her. “What?” he asks, resisting the urge to scratch shyly at his beard.

Penelope continues to stare, a soft expression filling her face as she shakes her head.  “Every time I think I got you figured out Schneider, you always surprise me with another layer of depth.”

“What can I say, Pen? I’m a man of mystery.”

“Uh huh,” she says, skeptical.

“I’m like an onion,” Schneider goes on. “I have layers.”

“Stinky layers, sure. Watery layers, absolutely. You are like a leaky faucet.”

He points to her tear stained face. “Hello pot, meet kettle.”

She scrunches her face up in annoyance but halfway through gives up and starts laughing. “Oh shut up, Schneider.”

He grins.

 

 

 

 

 

(“You still going to your meetings?” asks Nick.

“Like clockwork.”

“You still in love with Penelope?”

“Oh madly.”

“Okay. Just checking.”)

  
 

oOo

 

 

June passes into July relatively quickly. Schneider attends his various meetings, continues to do his daily affirmations and nightly moral inventory, and checks in with Viet (one hundred fifty days of sobriety and counting – Schneider is so proud of the younger man). Schneider has Elena walk him around the apartment building three times explaining various items to him on a giant to-do list that she later emails while he tries not to panic at the fact that come September, he will be Elena-less. Victor and Nicole have their baby, a little boy, and Schneider nods his head in agreement when Penelope admits to him her relief one night when it is just the two of them - “Elena says she is okay but I think Victor having a second daughter would have been hard for her. Alex is just happy the baby isn’t named Victor Junior and can wear baby Yeezy’s in a few months to match his.”

Schneider doesn’t avoid Penelope, not like he did before, but his discussion with Victor has made him a little more aware of his actions towards her. For an ex-gambler he doesn’t really have much of a poker face, at least not when it comes to Penelope. He still has dinner at their apartment almost every evening, he still takes Alex to the mall and Lydia to the farmers market and Marshalls. He still laughs at Penelope’s jokes and teases her about her boring Insta stories (seriously, even Dr. B’s are better; most of his stories are of the gross objects he pulls out of patients) but Schneider works hard to be more restrained in his actions towards her. He tries hard to be Penelope’s friend as she asked him to be, not some _gringo_ hopelessly in love with her.

It’s the middle of July when Schneider is walking outside the apartment complex one afternoon and sees Penelope standing near her garage talking with two women whom he recognizes instantly. They wave him over.

“Hi, Schneider,” says Penelope once he draws within hearing distance, her welcoming smile making his heart swoop low in his chest. “You remember my friends, Jill and Ramona.”

Schneider nods his head while Jill looks him up and down slowly, like she’s a cheetah and he’s a gazelle ripe for the picking and Schneider isn't sure if he should be terrified or turned on.

“Hot damn, Alvarez. Stop hiding this fine specimen of a man in your apartment. You should bring him out more often.” She flashes Schneider a wide, toothy smile. “Hi there, hot stuff.”

Afraid. He is definitely afraid. Schneider moves to the right so that he is hiding slightly behind Penelope as he nods cautiously back at Jill.

“ _Eh_ ,” Ramona makes a disgruntled face. “I've seen better shoulders on the lady who works at the DMV.  No offense, skinny man,” she adds with a non-apologetic shrug.

“None taken,” says Schneider, fighting back a grin. Next to him, Penelope is stifling her laughter. “So, what are you three ladies doing out here on this fine summer day?”

“Trying to decide what to do next,” says Jill. “Ramona’s got a situation.”

“Ramona’s always got a situation,” mutters Penelope cheekily under her breath. Ramona narrows her eyes and glowers at Penelope and Schneider watches in amusement as Penelope grins cheerfully back, unfazed.

Ramona looks at Schneider and explains. “My witch of an ex won’t give me my stuff back. And now she’s too lazy to make the trek back here. Says there is no reason to anymore.”

“See,” says Jill with a patronizing nod. “This is why I told you that you can’t date anyone west of the 405. Too much trouble and not enough reward. Gotta keep it local, girl.”

“Yeah, well. Next time I'll limit my results to the zip-code but in the meantime _girl_ , I still need my shit back.”

“So you three are trying to figure out your game plan, I gotcha,” says Schneider. “I’ve made this trip before. My exes also liked to take things from me –expensive things usually.” He sighs. “Where does she live?”

“Hermosa Beach.”

Schneider’s mouth falls open as he looks at the three of them. “ _Bro_ mosa Beach? You all are going to _Bro_ mosa?” He starts to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet, elated. In front of him Penelope’s face is torn between amusement and horror while Jill laughs and Ramona looks annoyed. “Oh please, please, please can I come?”

Ramona shakes her head negatively from side to side.

“Please, please, please,” Schneider continues to beg fervently as he claps his hands together and gives her his best puppy dog expression. “I’ll even drive. My SUV is huge and it’s got tinted windows, heated seats and satellite radio.”

Jill and Penelope look towards Ramona for approval. Ramona stares silently at Schneider for another long moment before nodding slowly, smirking. “You had me at tinted windows.”

“Sweet!” Schneider raises a fist in the air, beaming broadly. He turns around swiftly. “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?” asks Penelope.

“To get changed. I can’t wear this to _Bro_ mosa.” says Schneider, gesturing to his jeans and faded Maroon Five t-shirt as he walks away. “It’s flip flops and shorts, t-shirt optional over there. I wonder if I still have my trucker hat....”

“No trucker hat!” Penelope calls after him.  And then a second later, “And please, for the love of - wear a shirt!”

“T-shirt is optional!” he hears Jill shout over her. “Ignore Penelope. You do you, Schneider!”

Schneider is still laughing as he goes up the stairs.

 

 

 

Later that evening, after dropping Ramona and Jill off at Ramona’s apartment with her things (Ramona only threatened her ex four times with bodily harm and once with talk of setting her apartment on fire, both of which Penelope and Jill hasten to reassure Schneider is completely normal and that “Ramona has come a long way”), Penelope looks at Schneider and says, “That was fun.”

“That was fun,” agrees Schneider as they walk into the apartment lobby and start up the stairs. “Your friends are hysterical.”

“They are something alright.”

“And they like me.”

“Yeah,” Penelope sounds slightly surprised. “They really do.”

“Your friend Jill is a little scary though,” adds Schneider. “A bit intense.”

“Oh,” Penelope stops and turns around, an eyebrow raised. “Were you scared?” she teases.

“No,” lies Schneider.

“You were scared!”

“ _Not uh_!”

“ _Uh huh_!” laughs Penelope as she leans in towards him and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry Schneider, I’ll always be here to protect you.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

Schneider suddenly realizes their close proximity to each other at the same time Penelope does for she draws a quick breath in, the air shimmering with unexpected anticipation around them. They have both stopped halfway up the stairs, Penelope standing one step above Schneider facing him, her mouth almost level with his. Against his better judgement Schneider’s gaze flickers quickly to her lips before he glances away but in the half a second that follows he swears he hears Penelope take another sharp intake of breath before letting it out, shakily.

(But that can’t be right, can it?)

When he looks back at Penelope she is once again smiling, seemingly at ease but her eyes are still…well there is something hidden that clears away quickly once she realizes his attention is back on her. “Come on, Schneider,” Penelope says, motioning with her head as she starts back up the staircase. “I’m certain Mami has been holding dinner for us.”

Schneider nods and continues following her up, working hard to clear his head of the weird emotion he just felt. That was definitely an odd moment. But it had been a long day and was probably just his imagination, so Schneider lets it go as any good friend should.

It’s not until much later that night that it finally hits what emotion he saw reflected in Penelope’s eyes.

_Desire._

 

 

 

 

(But that can’t be right, can it?)

 

 

 

 

 

A few days later, Schneider drops by the office.

“Hey Pen.”

Penelope looks up from her computer, stacks of paperwork everywhere on her desk. She smiles happily, surprised to see him. “Hi Schneider. What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Schneider rests his body against the doorway frame and raises an eyebrow, teasingly. “It is that time of the day when people usually stop and refuel their body with nutrition. Normally with protein and whole grains but I’ve gone with sweets and sugars a few times just to mix things up a bit.

Penelope looks up at the clock on the wall and blinks, surprised. “Oh wow, almost one. I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s been a pretty crazy morning.” She stands up and stretches. “Actually, lunch-”

Dr. Berkowitz walks down the hallway at that moment, pausing beside Schneider. “Hello Schneider. I am almost ready. Let me just wash my hands and I’ll be ready to go” He holds up his hands. “The last patient had pink eye or uveitis, I’m not really sure.”

He disappears into the bathroom and Penelope stares after him before focusing back onto Schneider. “Oh. You’re getting lunch with Dr. B.”

It takes Schneider a moment to place her tone - disappointed. And that makes him suddenly grin, tickled pink.

“Why Miss Penelope,” He clutches his chest and flutters his eyelashes furiously, like he’s a sixteen-year-old Southern Belle in a hoop skirt. “Did you want to have lunch with little ol’ me?”

Penelope rolls her eyes.

“Because if you want to have a lunch date with me, all you have to do is ask.”

He waits.

“Schneider.”

“Yes, dear?”

She makes a gesture with her hand that Alex would wholeheartedly approve of (and Elena and Lydia would _not_ ) and Schneider nearly cracks a rib he is laughing so hard.

Schneider spends the entirety of his lunch with Dr. Berkowitz fighting back a smile. When he drops him back off at the office, Penelope is busy in another room with a patient. Schneider leaves the takeout container of chow mein and egg rolls he asked the waiter to package up specifically for her with a note - _Lunch date tmw? My treat._

Her text comes just as he's getting back in the car.

 _Absolutely_.

 

oOo

 

 

After that day, Schneider and Penelope start to meet up once a week to have lunch together. It becomes part of their routine. Schneider always lets Penelope choose (she is the one working after all) but half the time she chooses the Italian place down the street from the office because she knows Schneider is addicted to their garlic knots. In response when it's Schneider’s turn to pick he will usually bring sandwiches over from their favorite deli in Santa Monica – it’s too far to go during her one hour lunch break but Penelope has been known to wax eulogies over their number twelve and its quite easy to meet Penelope at a nearby park with sandwiches, water and a picnic blanket in hand and have lunch together.

It’s the easiest thing in the world, actually.

It’s a few weeks later, almost August when Schneider and Penelope are hanging out in his apartment late one evening trying to stay cool. It was the whole family initially -Schneider has air conditioning and unlike Penelope he lets Elena and Alex turn it on full blast. However Lydia and the teens have all left to chat, text or FaceTime with their respective romantic partners (or in Lydia’s case, her non-sexual platonic companion) leaving just Schneider and Penelope alone in the apartment. Schneider is walking out of the kitchen when he spots Penelope leaning halfway over the AC vent, letting the cool air kiss her face and neck as she moans appreciatively. Schneider pauses to enjoy the view.

(He’s her best friend, not a robot)

“You keep up that pose,” says Schneider eventually with a grin, “and you’ll get a permanent kink in your neck.

“I’m okay with that,” says Penelope as she straightens up and looks over her shoulder at him. “This machine is my new bff.”

“Not me?” fake sobs Schneider.

“Well…” she stretches out the word.

“I’ve been replaced,” he says forlorn to the fridge.

“Never,” says Penelope, even as her eyes gleam impishly. “You’ll always be my number three bestie.”

“Number three? Who is number two?”

“Your hot tub.”

Schneider throws back his head and hoots in laughter. “You know, it’s a good thing we don’t have a pool here. I might not even make top five then.”

“Possibly.”

“Are you just using me for my appliances then? Is that what this friendship is ultimately about? Have we been living a lie all these years?”

“Nah.” Penelope twitches her nose adorably at him and Schneider can’t help but laugh again. She really is something else. “I like you.”

“You like me?” he repeats, echoing her.

“Yup.”

“You like me,” he says, his voice teasing as he stretches out the syllables and rolls them under his tongue. “You like me.”

“Schneider…”

“You like me,” he can’t resist prodding, his grin widening by the second. “You really, really like me.”

“Schneider,” Penelope says again but this time, her voice is sharp. “Stop.”

He stills, hearing the warning tone in her voice. Looks at her. Then _really_ looks at her.  “Oh no,” Schneider says, the truth dawning on him. “You _like_ me?”

“You just said that,” Penelope says, annoyed.

“But I didn’t mean it in that way!” he yells, his voice high pitched. “I was just joking.”

“Well I do mean it that way, you _idiota_!” she yells at him, throwing her arms up in the air, suddenly frustrated. “I can’t stop thinking about you, looking at you, watching you. I feel like I’m a freaking teenager!”

Schneider’s emotions are all over the place, he can’t really process anything she is saying except - “You like me,” Schneider repeats once again, his voice incredulous.

Penelope nods and takes a step towards him. “I mean, you are my best friend.”

“You are my best friend.”

She takes another step in his direction. His knees are starting to buckle but he forces himself to stand still and concentrate on her. Walking towards _him._

“And I don’t want to screw our friendship up.”

“I don’t want to screw our friendship up either, Pen.”

Two more steps towards him. His mouth is suddenly dry.

“However, I can’t stop thinking about you as more than a friend.”

“As more than a….” Schneider pauses, thinks, readjusts. Somewhere down deep, hope is blossoming in his chest. “You think about me,” Schneider says, his voice soft in disbelief. “As more than a friend.”

Penelope nods and now she’s standing so close to him that Schneider could reach out and touch her if he wanted. He keeps his hands close at his side, his entire body suddenly taut with a swirling mixture of hope, fear and anticipation.

“As more than a friend. As much, _much_ more than a friend.”

She’s even closer now. And she’s looking up at him and there is something in Penelope’s eyes that he has only seen once before - desire.  

Schneider thinks of Elena and Syd, of all their conversations with him on the importance of mutual consent and enthusiastic agreements. He asks cautiously, his voice tingling with a small thread of hope. “Just to be clear we are both on the same page, can I get a hell yeah from you?”

“Schneider. Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

He figures that’s about the same, so he does.

From the moment Penelope’s lips meet his Schneider’s brain goes blank. All his five senses shut down except for one - touch. He feels Penelope's lips smooth against his own, her mouth open underneath his, her breath warming his skin. Their kiss is brief, entirely too short and when they both stop and pull back, looking at each other in surprise Schneider can’t help but laugh, nervously.

“Wow,” he says, his voice unsteady. “Wow.”

Penelope says nothing, just touches her fingers to her lips softly. The air around them is cloaked in utter silence, the lack of noise broken only by the steady hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Suddenly they both lunge for each other at the same time, their actions hurried, awkward and clumsy. Schneider nearly lifts Penelope off the floor in his desperate attempt to cradle her and he almost falls over backwards as a result. If their first kiss was like a light rainfall – quiet and non-invasive, their second kiss is akin to a man drowning of thirst in the desert who finally reaches water – desperate, heavy and with no other thought of anything else but getting his fill.

Schneider kisses Penelope frantically. His glasses bang against her cheeks, his hands are roving everywhere, and he’d be embarrassed if Penelope’s hands weren’t also exploring him just as frantically in return. She makes a soft moan of frustration when her arms are too short to reach his shoulders though and Schneider laughs against her mouth in response.

He pulls back from her in time to see Penelope’s glare and the sight of the familiar expression makes him deliriously happy. Her lips are swollen from his.

“C’mere” Schneider says, his fingers sliding down to take hers as he pulls her over to the sofa. He sits down first on the end and she sits down next to him. Penelope stares at him for a moment before reaching over and gently removing his glasses from his face, setting them down on the coffee table, her movements delicate and precise. Schneider stills, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, that small action feeling incredibly intimate and romantic. Penelope then pushes herself up onto her knees, shifting her body so that she is almost straddling Schneider on the sofa, her knees pressing against one of his thighs as she stretches up to capture his mouth in a kiss. Schneider leans forward to allow her lips easier access to his and _oh shit_ if Schneider thought kissing Penelope vertically was amazing, kissing her horizontally is absolutely mind blowing.

Penelope kisses with the same urgency that she does everything else in life – with one hundred percent passion and commitment. Her hands are tightly clutching the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling Schneider closer to her as she angles her head, causing Schneider’s mouth to fall open and allowing her tongue to slip inside. Now it’s Schneider’s turn to groan in frustration as he puts his hands on her waist, pressing her chest fleshed against his own as they continue to explore each other, their hands moving around passionately just as much as their lips. After a few awkward misses, they find a rhythm that works for them and Schneider cannot believe he has gone all these years without knowing that Penelope arches her back and hums in anticipation when he brushes feverish kisses underneath her jawline.

When they finally come up for air a few minutes later, both are breathing heavily and Penelope’s curls are tousled, her mouth red and wet. She’s staring at Schneider, her face and neck flushed with exertion and Schneider is stupidly, hopelessly captivated by the sight.

“So,” he says, trying to school his expression back from one of utter devotion to one of solemnity (spoiler alert: he fails). “Want to go back to being _just_ friends?”

Penelope snorts, a big undignified snort that echoes in the silence around them and the sound of it causes Schneider to laugh as well. Penelope wrinkles her nose, still chuckling as she drops her head into the crook of his shoulder and then sighs happily, turning her body to the side so she lays fleshed against the back of the sofa, her short legs tangled with his longer ones. Schneider moves his body over to the edge of the sofa, letting her settle more comfortably against his side as he brings his arm up and over her shoulder, pulling her in so Penelope’s head is resting on his chest. Schneider drops a kiss to her curls and leans his head back on the armrest staring up at the ceiling, his heart still pounding widely in his chest.

He knows they should talk about what just happened but he is too busy being incredibly happy to find words. Schneider's face feels like it is going to split in half from his enormous smile and he is trying hard not to cry, completely overwhelmed with a multitude of feelings – joy, gratitude, amazement, love.

_Asmuchmorethanafriend_

He cannot believe this is his life. Right now, in this moment with his best friend. After a minute Penelope lifts her head off his chest and looks at him. Her face is inches from his, so even without his glasses he can still see the tiny lines around the corners of her eyes, can count the small freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. She is breathtakingly beautiful and here, with _him_ , smiling broadly and Schneider can’t help but grin foolishly back at her in return.

“Hey, Schneider.” Penelope says cheerfully, the glint in her eyes immediately setting his body into anticipation mode. “Want to make out some more?”

“Hell yeah!” he shouts eagerly, causing Penelope to throw back her head and laugh. Schneider leans up and swallows her laughter with a kiss, causing her second laugh to turn into that of a satisfied moan.

He’s always been a quick learner.

 

 

oOo

 

 

Schneider is so nervous the next day about seeing Penelope that he changes his shirt four times before heading downstairs for lunch.

“ _Hola,_ Schneider,” greets Lydia from where she is setting the table. “How are _ju_?”

Schneider hesitates. Does Lydia know about him and Penelope? Does she not know? He looks at her but Lydia is busy setting utensils down, seemingly undisturbed by anything else. “I am good,” he says, closing the front door behind him. He doesn’t see Penelope anywhere. “You need help?” he asks, walking over towards the table.

“Can you grab the salad?” she asks, motioning to the bowl on the counter. Schneider sets it down on the table just as Alex comes out of the kitchen, holding a platter of carne asada, Elena following behind him with more food. The two teenagers set the plates and bowls down on the table and then take their seats along with Schneider.

“Penelope, lunch!” calls Lydia, still standing by the kitchen door. “That _niña_ ,” she remarks fondly to Schneider. “She’s been in her head all morning, singing and smiling to herself.”

Penelope walks down the hallway a minute later, tugging self-consciously at her off the shoulder flowered top. She is wearing well-fitted jeans and her hair is partially up in an extravagant bun.

“Dang Mami,” Alex whistles. “You look nice.”

“Yes, really nice,” says Elena suspiciously as she peers at her mother. “Are you wearing makeup? What are you all dressed up for?”

“ _Si_ ,” repeats Lydia, also perplexed. “What are you dressed up for?”

Penelope blushes and sits down in the empty chair next to Schneider, avoiding his gaze. “What, so it’s a crime to look nice now? I dress up sometimes.”

“But it’s a Sunday. And we are home,” points out Elena.

Penelope takes the platter of carne asada and starts serving herself some of the meat. Schneider can see her hands shaking slightly but when she speaks, her voice is steady. “Well, maybe I am trying to look good for God. Turn over a new leaf and such.”

“ _Ay,_ Lupita! _”_ exclaims Lydia as she bends down and presses a kiss to Penelope’s head. She then walks over and sits down next to Elena, clasping her hands together in delight. “God has answered my prayers. I will throw out all your old sweatpants _mañana_.”

“Hey!” Penelope points the tongs at her mother. “Don’t touch my sweatpants, you _viejita_.”

Lydia looks scandalized but then Elena starts talking about a protest she and Syd are attending next weekend and the conversation moves on. As Lydia and the two teenagers talk Schneider leans over to Penelope and whispers very quietly as not to be overheard, “The kids are right Pen, you look beautiful. But then again, you always do.”

A flush of red creeps up Penelope’s cheeks as she looks away from him and the action is so unlike her that Schneider can’t help but smile hugely, like a besotted fool.

“Schneider, why are you grinning?” asks Lydia suddenly.

“Nothing,” says Schneider in response, making a controlled effort to school his face and his thoughts away from Penelope and towards the rest of the table. He thinks he’s doing a good job, it only takes him a full two minutes to realize that Alex is talking about the fancy new phone he wants but then he feels Penelope’s hand reach under the table and find his own, linking their fingers together and he’s lost in his head again. His entire focus is back on Penelope sitting next to him, her thumb rubbing soft circles on his wrist.

As soon as lunch is over Schneider bolts upstairs to his apartment and paces, waiting. When Penelope comes in three minutes later she flies at him and grabs his elbows, pulling his head down to hers so she can kiss him. He meets her halfway, eagerly.

They break off the kiss with a gasp and look at each other. “For me?” asks Schneider with a wry grin, flicking a finger at her blouse.

“Depends,” Penelope replies, looking up at him and smirking. “How many times did you change your shirt?”

“Only once….and then three more times,” adds Schneider. She shakes her head, fondly. There is silence and Schneider realizes that Penelope’s hands are still clasped around his forearms.

“So…I guess we should talk,” he says and Penelope nods. They head over to his sofa and sit down facing each other, Penelope tucking her legs up underneath her.  

“So yesterday was fun...” starts Schneider

“Yesterday was lots of fun,” adds Penelope with a twinkle in her eye and Schneider can’t help but laugh again. He really does utterly adore her.

“So are we doing this then, Penelope? You and I?”

Penelope’s face grows serious. “I’m in,” she says taking his hand and squeezing it briefly. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about us-“

“You have?”

“This didn’t come out of nowhere, Schneider. I’ve been thinking about it ever since that night you told me you liked me as more than a friend.”

He raises his eyebrows at her in surprise as she continues. He didn’t expect that. “Anyways, yes _\- us_. You and I. I’m in, Schneider – for all of it. I’m terrified, don’t get me wrong. I’m don’t want to mess up what we have but I also, I want more. I think you and I, we both want more, yes?”  

“Yes!” Schneider leans forward, his hands cupping her knee caps. “I’m totally ready to give us a try. And I’m terrified too. I mean, I never imagined that you would like me, that you and I would...”

His voice trails off and he shakes his head. “But look, Pen. I want you to think about this. Really think this through. I will always be an alcoholic, I will always be in recovery. For the rest of my life. I can’t change that part of me. Are you sure you are okay with that?  Especially after everything that happened with you and Victor?”

“Schneider,” Penelope’s voice is sharp. “You are _nothing_ like Victor. You and I are nothing like my relationship was with Victor. Remember when I told you I like the man you are just fine?”

Schneider nods, recalling that moment with utmost clarity. “You know,” he says, softly, staring off at a distance point over her shoulder. “Later I hated the fact that I already had a drink that day. That I wasn’t sober anymore and you thought….I wasn’t-“

His voice cracks and he bows his head, ashamed. Penelope’s hands reach out and cup his face, her touch gentle as she raises his head to meet her fierce gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Schneider. I meant what I said. I meant it then and I mean it now. You are one of the strongest men I know. And your preservation and determination in the battle against your addictions is part of that strength. Why on earth would I want to change any part of you?”

Schneider leans into her hand and closes his eyes, his heart completely overwhelmed with affection as she continues.

“I have anxiety, depression and PTSD. I still can’t hear fireworks without reaching for a gun I no longer carry. Are you sure you’re okay with me?”

Schneider’s eyes pop open, his response instantaneous. “Of course. You are Penelope Alvarez. The most amazing mother, daughter, nurse and friend I know. Those things you mentioned, they are just a part of you but not all of you. You are so much more, Pen.”

“Exactly. I can say the same about you,” she releases his face and rests her hands atop his. “Look, we are both dealing with our own demons yes? We are both going to meetings, therapy sessions, taking medication, whatever we need to do. And when that doesn’t work all the way or life gets too hard for us to handle on our own we turn to each other for support, correct?”

Schneider nods.

“Then let’s continue to do that. I got you and you got me, Schneider. Same as it always has been. Nothing has changed except now we kiss.”

“I gotta say Pen, I love that new addition.”

She laughs and the sound of it joyously fills the air around them. “Me too.”

Schneider leans in to kiss her and this time their kiss is slow and unhurried, a promise of a life yet to come. They break apart and look at each other, angling their heads so their foreheads are touching. Schneider takes a deep breath in and releases it. In his chest, something shifts and slots into place. He feels at home.

“I can’t believe that Lydia and the kids didn’t suspect anything,” Schneider muses aloud after a long moment. “I guess we are smarter than we thought we were.”

Penelope laughs and pulls away, rolling her eyes at him in affection. “Those three dummies? No. In fact, I bet….”

Schneider watches as she gets up from the couch and strolls over to his apartment door, her footsteps light. She pauses and looks back at him, grinning before reaching for the door handle and opening it abruptly. Alex, Elena and Syd all fall through the doorway, looking sheepish. Lydia strolls in behind them, looking expectantly at her daughter.

“Lupe? Schneider? Do you two have something you want to tell us?”

Penelope ignores Lydia’s question. Instead she crosses her arms and looks assessing at her family. “Do you all really have nothing better to do with your time then listen at doors? I see you brought Syd. I'm surprised Dr Berkowitz isn't here as well.”

Lydia holds up her cell phone. “Leslie is on the speaker phone.”

“Hello Penelope and Schneider,” crackles out a tiny voice.

“Hi Doc,” replies Schneider, happily.

“Schneider!” hisses Penelope.

“What? It’s super rude not to say hello back when someone says hello to you.”

She rolls her eyes and turns towards the group. “Why are you listening outside Schneider’s door?”

“Because you and Schneider have been acting weird,” says Alex. “Don’t think we didn’t notice the hand holding today at lunch.”

“And last night you didn’t come home until like ten o’clock and your hair was all messed up,” Elena points out.

“And two weeks ago you couldn’t stop looking at Schneider’s butt when he was on the ladder replacing batteries in all the smoke detectors.”

Everyone looks at Syd in surprise.

“Sorry,” they say with a shrug. “I just wanted to be a part of the conversation.”

“Syd is right." Lydia nods, thoughtfully. “You have been looking at his _fundilla_ a lot lately, Lupita.”

“Really?” asks Schneider, enormously pleased. “I have been working on my glutes in my last few workouts, nice to see it is paying off-“

“Alright, alright.” Penelope holds up her hand. “Can we please stop talking about Schneider’s flat ass?”

“Hey!”

“Well then give us the _chisme,_ Mami,” says Alex, crossing his arms and cocking his head, trying to look serious and failing.

“Yeah, Mami. What’s going on?”

Penelope looks at Schneider. He smiles. She smiles back. And that is it. She looks at her family, _their_ family and says, simply. “Schneider and I are dating now.”

“Cool.”

_“!Fantástico!_

“ _Aw_!”

“What did they say? Hello? Hello? …can anyone hear me?”

As Lydia starts shouting into the phone (“ _Que_ beautiful Leslie, Penelope is not alone anymore!”), Penelope starts glaring at Alex who immediately whipped out his phone and told Schneider he was sending him a text (“Here is a small list of things I want. I have them organized by coolness factor and price”), and Syd and Elena start exploring Schneider's snow globe display (“Let’s see if we can find the one of us”), Schneider takes it all in.

This is his family. His world. It’s his four hundred and thirty ninth day of sobriety and never in a million years would he have imagined he’d be here four hundred and forty days ago. Schneider feels a lump in his throat and he blinks, saying a quick prayer of thanks under his breath.

Penelope walks over to him and slips her hand into his.

“You good?” she asks.

“Absolutely," he says, his heart light and utterly content. "I am so good right now.”

 

 

 

Even though Alex and Elena both said they are okay with the news, Schneider still wants to check in with them. He gets his chance a few evenings later when he is at the Alvarez apartment having dinner. It's just him and the teens. Penelope is at her weekly therapy session and Lydia is helping out with at an event at church.

“I know your mother already talked to you two but I wanted to ask anyways.” Schneider says, setting down his hamburger and lacing his fingers together. “Are you two okay with me and your mom dating?”

The two siblings look at each other and then at him. “It’s a little weird,” admits Alex with a shrug. “Different for sure.”

“But okay too,” interjects Elena, pushing her glasses up her nose. “It’s okay with us, that you two are dating.”

“Only on one condition,” says Alex, leaning forward in his seat and looking intently at Schneider. Schneider straightens up and nods at the teenager, ready to promise anything that Elena or Alex request of him. He is committed to sobriety, he is committed to his daily routines, he is committed to staying the man these two young people sitting in front of him need him to be.

Nothing could have prepared him for what Alex says next. “No matter what happens or doesn't happen between you and Mami, you have to promise to always stay our Schneider.”

“ _Our_ Schneider?” repeats Schneider, his forehead creasing in confusion.

“Yeah,” says Elena, nodding in agreement. “I mean, Mom doesn’t have first dibs on you. You belong to all of us.”

Schneider can’t help it, he starts to cry. He manages to speak over the small lump in his throat, knowing he needs to say these words because they are important. They are some of the most important words he will ever say in his whole life. “Elena. Alex. I promise you, I will _always_ be your Schneider. Nothing will ever change that. You two are my family.”

“We love you Schneider,” says Alex simply as he picks up his burger to take a large bite and the lump in Schneider throat feels permanently lodged.

“I love you guys, too. People, I mean,” amends Schneider hastily after seeing an annoyed expression cross Elena's face. “I love you people too.”

“That sentence isn’t grammatically correct,” Elena replies, her tone exasperated but her eyes fond.

“Thank you,” Schneider says and he’s referring to much more than that. “Thank you both.”

They grin at him and he smiles back, reaching across the table to steal two of Elena's fries.

It's one of the best Tuesday nights he's had in a long time.

 

 

(Lydia is a much shorter conversation. They are watching Tomás’ latest antics on _El Amor y la Sangre_ together during lunch the next day when Schneider says, “Lydia, can I ask you-“

“ _Si_ ,” she interrupts him. “ _Si_. I am happy for you and Lupita. I still pray for you, _mijo_. Remember, you are in here,” she taps at her chest before reaching down to take his hand, her touch gentle and her eyes warm with love. “ _Mi familia._ Always. _”_

There is nothing else he can say. The women in apartment 402 have always known how to slay him speechless with their love for him.

 

 

 

Nick’s response is even shorter. “About damn time.”)

 

oOo

 

A month later, Schneider helps the rest of the family move Elena into college. Between all the unpacking, organizing and multiple Target runs, Schneider slips away to attend a AA meeting. No one bats an eye when he says he is leaving, Penelope just gives him a swift kiss and asks him to pick up some velcro strips for Elena to hang up her headphones and other small items around her desk if he has time after the meeting is over.

(Of course he has time, he always has time for any of them)

The meeting is held in a classroom at a nearby community college and Schneider is struck by how familiar it feels, how normal, how right. He is exactly where he needs to be, scars and all.

“Hello, my name is Pat and I am an alcoholic,” says Schneider when it is time for him to introduce himself to the group. “This is day four hundred and seventy-four for me.”

He pauses and then smiles, faintly. “And counting.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this fic has been an utter delight and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. A few things I want to say before wrapping up.
> 
> \---- I deliberately left Elena’s college choice as well as her major ambiguous and open to your own personal interpretation. I spent far too many hours online searching Ivy Leagues and researching majors and job careers only to grow frustrated with the multiple options. Other than saying no to Yale, because I think it’s reasonable that Elena might not get into to all the Ivy League schools she wants, everything else is left in the air (so think of it as a Choose Your Own Adventure style if you will). Regardless of college or major chosen I think we can all agree that Elena will do great and make a positive impact no matter where she goes. She’s got two amazing women who have shown her how after all.  
> 
> 
> \---- While the older generations of my family speak Spanish fluently, my own personal Spanish hovers at around the level of a three-year-old (on a good day). I tried my best to say and spell things correctly all while keeping it in the vein of this show but if I didn’t, feel free to point out my errors and I will edit.  
> 
> 
> \---- I originally posted this story because I was (still am, actually) upset about the cancellation by Netflix. But I started writing this story because I know what it feels like to be Schneider. My own experience is not with alcohol addiction, but other vices that made me hit my own rock bottom. I know what it feels like to not know what to do or where to go next, seeing the person you currently are and the person you want to be while the gap between those two distinct individuals feels almost impossible to overcome. I also know what it feels like to rise, to get to the other side with the help, support, and encouragement of others and I wanted to depict that for Schneider. I tried my best to write Schneider’s journey towards sobriety (and eventually Penelope) as accurately and with as much honesty and respect as I could manage and I hope as you read this story it rang true for you. <3


End file.
